Worthy of Magic
by Sage Ra
Summary: A tale of a twisted Harry's view on Magic and his psychopathic journey.
1. Part One - The Void

_**A/N: Reposting. Rated M for Death and Violence.**_

 **Part 1 - The Void**

 **Prologue**

"Hold out your hands."

Harry James Potter; a boy abandoned by his parents. Left at the doorsteps of relatives who hated him; held his tears in, contained the bubble of terror and hate threatening to burst out of his chest, and held out his hands, palms up.

He felt the pain even before the steel cut through the air and smacked into his tiny palms. His arms buckled under the force of his uncle's swing and he could not stop the cry of pain escaping his lips.

"Keep them up boy!"

The steel swung down again.

Harry Potter cried out again and the louder he cried, the happier his Uncle got.

Today it was the scale. He had outscored Dudley in Mathematics and the punishment was whack the hands so he could not hold a pencil.

It was rather insignificant compared to what he had to endure when he had jumped six feet in the air after being surprised when his cousin- Dudley and his gang had jumped out from behind bushes to chase him for fun.

The belt buckle had left deep marks. Going by the amount of pain and heat radiating from his back; he was sure flesh was torn. His body shook trying to expel the pain through sobs but he had decided some time in during the past beatings that he would stop giving the Dursley's the pleasure of seeing him cry.

Harry Potter buried his head as far as could into the bundled up sheet and did his best to keep the sobs in. The sheet helped muffle the few cries that did escape from his heart through his mouth. His eyes were shut tight. He tried not to let the tears leak. Tears meant marks on his face. Marks on his face meant she; his Aunt, would slap him around for giving her a reason to use the sink.

The fear of what was to come helped him overcome the pain. He embraced that heat. Let it wash all over him. He let himself sink into it and almost imagined being sucked into a void. There was no suffering in a void. The void was calm. The void was his friend. He could stay in the void and function like a zombie. Retreating into the void kept him sane.

He had found the void to be a place of safety and had been inspired to find it when he used to peek through his cupboard to try and watch television. He wasn't able to see much but he could hear enough. His favourite was the man with the soothing and haunting voice talking about the desert; the emptiness, the harsh and unforgiving nature. Allowing only the Strong to survive. Those words always rang in his mind when he was being beaten. It was also how he had found the void. It was a place of safety and one where he could survive.

She came the next morning to take him to the bathroom. He was allowed two visits per day. He had missed the last because he had pushed the pig into the mud. It had been when he came out of the void. Outside the void, there was either suffering or anger. He had been angry then. He liked being angry. Being angry made the pain hurt less. He didn't understand it. But he liked it.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell coming from the cupboard under the stairs. It was disgusting but he had learnt to live with it. It was one of his earliest memories. It was when he got used to the smell outside he realised the cupboard was disgusting.

"Vernon certainly went over board yesterday," she said grimacing in disgust as she peeled his torn shirt off his tiny frame. She always kept her distance from him. Like he was a disease.

"Do your thing freak," she snapped. "Heal those wounds quickly. I don't want Dudley being late to school because of you!"

The boy scowled. He let his mind return from the void and he felt the rush of rage. He wanted to hurt this woman. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to make her feel the pain he was feeling a hundred times over. Instead, he clenched his teeth and pulled at the void. The void did strange things. He could never use it at will. However being in the presence of the woman made it almost easy. It was why he never lunged for the razor lying innocently on the porcelain sink and sliced at her neck repeatedly until his hands were red.

He felt his body knitting the injuries until it looked like there was no wound there in the first place.

The woman shuddered and gave the boy a loathsome stare. The boy returned it in full force and his emerald eyes promised retribution with a darkness that just didn't belong on a nine year old.

The thin woman flinched and looked away. "Your clothes are on the floor near the door. Get ready and come down for breakfast. The bus leaves in half an hour." She said that quickly and left.

Harry showered robotically, brushed his teeth with the same brush that he had been given three years ago, towelled himself dry with a thin blanket tossed at his face two years ago and slowly clothed himself with the school colours his Aunt had bought from the thrift store with great reluctance. The pig's hand me downs had turned out to be too large for his much smaller size.

He retreated to the void. He had a vague sense of awareness in the void. There were no senses in the void. He was a part of an emptiness that stretched on forever; just like the desert and there was a metaphorical window through which he could sense what his body was doing.

He only looked through the window when there was a need. Like now. When a teacher was asking him a question.

The boy left the void and blinked.

"Are you listening to me Harry?" the teacher said in an annoyed tone.

Harry nodded. It was the correct thing to do, he knew.

"Then let me ask you again. Can you tell me what 2 times 15 is?"

"Thirty," Harry said automatically. His voice was soft. Too soft and was almost a hiss.

The teacher smiled. Looking very pleased. "You see Dudley!" she exclaimed. "Your cousin knows the answer. You two ought to spend more time together."

Dudley glared at Harry and slid his fat stubby thumb across his neck and then smirked.

The man had warned him. The woman had warned him. Never make Dudley look stupid. Their actual words were never copy off Dudley and pretend to be smarter.

No matter the warnings, Harry liked ignoring them. He knew they would hurt him. He knew there would be pain. He hated the pain. But the pain gave him anger. He liked anger. It made being with the void easier. He almost smiled in anticipation. He never thought his thought process was warped.

He couldn't stop the cries that came from his mouth when the belt slashed into his back. It hurt. It always hurt. No matter how many times the belt descended. It always hurt like it did the first time.

"I warned you!" the man roared. Dudley had complained and run out to play. His parents made sure he never saw what they did to Harry. They would only say they'd take care of it. Little did they know Dudley used to peek through the window and do the same to kids smaller than him and make sure no one saw him and his gang.

"Don't shout darling," the woman hissed. Her cruel eyes glittering. "The neighbours might hear."

"But you never learn do you?" the man growled.

Harry waited but the belt never came down. He chanced a look and saw a thick hand, the size of his face come rushing towards him. The blow sent him tumbling to the side and he crashed into the side table send all the ornaments crashing to the floor.

The woman gasped as her precious vase was shattered.

Harry was dazed. His head had hit the table hard and the air was knocked out of his lungs. It had been long since the hand came down on him. The last time it did, not even the void had been able to help him. It was the only time he was taken to the hospital and since then only the belt was used.

"Now look what you did freak."

The red monster descended on Harry and Harry tried to scramble away. He felt fear. Terrible fear. The hand wrapped around his neck and hoisted him into the air. The fingers squeezed and air stopped entering his lungs. Harry's legs flailed desperately. He tried to suck in the air but nothing went in. His lungs were burning, eyes bulging.

 _I'm going to die._

It was a terrifying realisation.

Harry didn't want to die. He wanted to be with the void. He wanted to feel anger to summon the void. But he only felt terror. Black spots were beginning to take away his sight. The agony spread over his entire body. He needed to breath. He wanted to live. He couldn't die by the hands of his enemy.

" _Please! Help me!"_ he screamed to the void.

For the first time since he found the void. It suddenly opened in a way he never thought possible. It began to expand rapidly and Harry's eyes widened along with Vernon's when his fingers began to loosen their grip on his neck. Against his will, they were being pushed away and bit by bit, the grip loosened until Harry was free and he fell to the ground.

He watched with wide eyes as his Uncle was frozen in place and his arm began to twist. His body throbbed. Not with pain but with the overwhelming force of the void unfurling and expanding inside his body. He could feel the void's touch on the man and a delightful laugh bubbled from his mouth when he saw the terror in the man's beady brown eyes. It was the first time he had ever laughed.

The void had finally opened. It was no longer hidden in his mind as a place of refuge. It no longer felt like he needed anger to pull it out to do the strange things it was capable of. Now it felt weird. It was like a force was trying to bloat up his body. It was confined and it wanted to be let out. It was caged and it didn't like being caged. The little bit of the void that had latched onto the monster was now forcing those fat fingers around the man's neck, just like they were around Harry's less that a minute back.

He heard a shrill scream and saw the woman lifting the idol of Christ off the kitchen counter to hurl it at his head.

Harry knew what to do. He pushed at the void and gasped when it leapt out of his body and slammed into the woman.

Harry giggled when he saw the horror in her eyes and laughed when her head hit the column of concrete behind. He watched with wide amazed eyes as she slid to the floor unconscious, leaving a trail of blood on the white paint.

"Petunia!" roared the man in terror and fury.

Harry slowly got to his feet. His body felt weak. The void felt like a storm. It wanted to be unleashed at something. Harry frowned. What should he do? Should he just kill the man? Should he hurt the man? He wanted the man to feel pain. That was true enough, but how? Use the belt? How best to use the void?

"B-boy!" gasped Vernon. He was experiencing the lack of oxygen now. His face was purpling. Harry wondered if he had looked like that as well.

The seconds ticked and Harry couldn't think. This was the first time he was in control. The void felt invincible and he didn't know what to do.

"F-f-freak." Vernon's eyes were bulging and his fingers dug into his own neck with the same viciousness that he had caught Harry and he still had enough hate to spit out an insult.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He raised his hands and felt the void rush out of his palm to become an extension of his self. He wrapped the void around the monster and lifted his hand and swiped down hard.

Vernon hit the ceiling and was sent crashing into the floor at ungodly speeds.

Harry felt like he was holding a rag and treated it as such. "Never." he sent the monster crashing into the telly. "Call." Vernon was smashed into the expensive bar crafted in Italy. "Me a. FREAK!" He was pounded into the floor over and over again. "Do you understand!" Harry screamed. The rage, the anger, the desire for revenge and finally merged with the void. Vernon was lifted and slammed into the marble tiles once, twice, thrice… it kept going on. Harry let out an unintelligible scream and continued the brutal treatment.

The marble had long cracked and shattered. Vernon was a bleeding mess. His face unrecognisable. Body limp. It had no life.

When Harry finally stopped, he was panting. He felt light headed. He had lost himself in his rage. The silence in the house was only disturbed by his heavy breathing.

The void felt satisfied. It was slowly retreating into his mind and with it's slow retreat Harry felt something he had never felt before.

Satisfaction. Freedom.

Petunia stirred.

The rage returned.

The small boy turned towards the woman who had caused him pain too and narrowed his eyes. He felt like he could call the void whenever he wanted. That made her useless.

He bent down and picked up a sharp piece of the broken Vase. She was the only one he had ever fantasied about killing.

She groaned and opened her eyes had Harry revealed in the terror they held when she saw him standing over her with piece of her precious Vase. She tried to move and run but something weighed her down and held her in place.

Harry moulded the void and kept her still. He smiled and gently sat on her stomach.

He brought the sharp piece of porcelain to the side of her neck and pushed.

Petunia couldn't move; she couldn't scream. She could only feel the touch of the cold Vase as it dug into her neck just below her ear and made her bleed.

It was harder than Harry thought. Her neck was thin but it was difficult to slice it with porcelain. He was nearing her jugular when it piece broke. He frowned. His Aunt was dying. Blood was pouring from her neck, she was coughing blood, his hands were red. "One minute," Harry muttered and looked around for another sharp instrument.

He used the void to call a butchers' knife into his hand. He carefully dug it into her neck where he had left off and pulled sideways. He wanted her neck sliced from ear to ear. Suddenly blood began to spurt like a fountain and it hit him in the eye. He winced and stop his careful slicing to protect his face and wipe his eye. The blood continued to spurt and Harry scowled and moved a bit to the side to avoid getting his face sprayed.

After that it was easy. He reached the other ear and then carefully got up and stepped aside.

He released the void's hold on her and watched in fascination as her limbs began to flail and hands grasped at her throat. Her eyes turned to him and they were desperate. She tried to talk but she only coughed blood. She went still a few seconds later.

That was the scene the Police burst into. The man in the lead took in the sight of the living room in a single glance. An obese man, lying face down on the floor. Blood splatters over the ceiling and walls. Broken furniture and glass everywhere. A thin woman, clutching her neck that had a knife sticking out of the side. And a boy standing next to her, looking at him, with a deranged smile.

A scrawny boy, barely four and a half feet in height. Hair messy and black as midnight. Skin pale and pasty. Eyes a dark shade of green, and blood; blood all over his face and hands.

What freaked the Cop more than anything else was that smile. That smile and those crazed eyes.

The boy raised his hand and the Cops, who were stunned by the scene before them, tensed. One drew his weapon.

But the boy merely waved. "Hi," he said. "My Aunt and Uncle are dead, if you came looking for them. It felt re~ally good killing them."

It was the longest sentence Harry had ever spoken.


	2. Convicted

**Convicted**

 **Twentieth May Nineteen Ninety**

"The child has been abused his entire life your Honour. As you can see from the police report and forensic report; the child was living in the cupboard under the stairs and the amount of blood residue found was off the charts! Also, with the way the Dursley's were murdered, considering the amount of physical damage done to them, I have a medical and a physics report detailing all the reasons you need to prove why it is, in fact, impossible for my client to have committed the crime."

Harry was bored. The men in the funny robes talked too much. He understood one of them was defending his actions but Harry didn't want to be defended. He was proud of what he had done. He didn't understand why people wanted him to keep quiet and say nothing. They gave him chocolates and ice creams in abundance so he obeyed them. It wasn't like anything they said or did would affect him. He had the void. At present, he was making the void stir up a wind in the hot and fully packed Courtroom.

He turned his head lazily looking around and spotted a tearful Dudley on the other side of the room. A man in a suit holding his hand.

"We have a confession your Honour! The boy admits to have killing his Aunt and Uncle who did nothing but give him shelter after his own parents died in a car crash."

"Shelter where systematic abuse took place? Have you forgotten the nonchalant way Mr Dudley spoke of the punishments my client endured?!"

"The medical reports say the exact opposite! The boy is in good health. If on the tiny side. He has no broken bones, no scars except the one on his forehead which he got in the car crash!"

"Are you forgetting the room," the man defending Harry sneered. "The room full of blood. Full of his DNA. Scratches in the wall. One blanket. One cot. A corner full of his wastes! A lock on the door? You call that nothing?!

"Your Honour! I plead for this case to be dismissed and my client be given the care he so desperately requires!"

Harry played with the void. Nobody could see it except for him. It was almost invisible except for the distortion of space when he drew it out of his body. He made shapes out of it and giggled when it touched the defender making him jump.

The defender looked around, saw nothing and turned back to the judge.

Both men started shouting and murmurs began to grow from the crowd who had come to watch the trial of the boy who had committed the horrific murder of his relatives.

The Judge banged his hammer and shouted for Order.

"The Court will take a 10-minute break while the Jury makes a decision."

Harry yawned. He let himself float into the void. It was no longer a place of retreat. It was a home. No senses. Only peace and absolute silence.

His mind drifted back to the past, the few moments in Privet Drive that had truly fascinated him. It was a Sunday and he was dusting all the curios and photo frames that were carefully positioned all around the living room and a movie was playing on the telly. There was a man on a horse laughing while another man staggered under the force of a brutal heat in the desert. He was fascinated. The man on the horse held such power over the other and when he mockingly offered a drop of water, the half dead man glared with such defiance and it made Harry feel like he was looking in a mirror. At that moment Harry knew, he knew the half dead man had what it took to survive! He tried to recall all the little bits of images he had of the man. Blonde hair, blue eyes, withered skin…

Suddenly the window in the void called for his presence.

"Harry James Potter," said the judge sternly.

Harry blinked. Ten minutes had passed quickly.

"I don't know if the reason for you silence is trauma or the instructions of your Lawyer but after considering all facets of this case and the findings of the Jury I have no choice but to sentence you to 8 years and 2 months in a Juvenile Home reserved for the mentally ill.

Harry's lawyer groaned and part of the crowd cheered and the rest shouted in outrage. "There goes my bonus for the week," he grumbled under his breath.

"I am, however, willing to reconsider if you open your mouth and tell the Jury and your side of the story," he said sternly.

Harry thought back to the day he had killed his Aunt and Uncle. Unleashing his rage on his Uncle, fulfilling a fantasy as he sliced his Aunt from ear to ear. Harry looked up to the Judge. "I wish Dudley were there too," he said with a sigh. His voice was soft and velvet. It made shivers run down the Judge's spine. "I really wanted him to watch what I did."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **July Thirty First Nineteen Ninety One**

Harry had fallen into a comfortable routine at The Janus Home for Criminal Children. Physical exercise at 5:00 am. Breakfast in the morning at 7:00 am. Education at 8:00. Library duty at 12:00 pm. Lunch and meds at 1:00 pm. Meet Psychologist Beverly at 2:00 pm. Education at 3:00. Physical exercise at 6:00 pm and Dinner at 8:00 pm. After that, it was lights out at 10:00 pm.

The first day some older boys had tried to hurt him at night but the void had taken care of that quick. By the end of the week no one dared touch him or even talk to him and that was the way he liked it.

The wardens had watched him like hawks watching prey but Harry never did any of the things they associated with criminal kids. Especially one who had brutally murdered his relatives and orphaned their son.

He kept to himself, poured over books on evolution and survival, made no friends, followed the routine given to him to the letter. He met the psychologist on schedule and never said a word. He spoke to no one except the time when Beverly had asked him how he liked it at Janus. Harry had smiled and said peaceful. And to him it truly was. He had all that he needed. Nutrition. Peace. Shelter. The Void. He had almost grown to feel attached to Janus but the lack of stale environment and the lack of a feeling of wildness put him off.

The only thing he obsessed over throughout his time at Janus was evolution. The concept of survival of the fittest truly fascinated him.

Rumours flew around about him. But one thing everyone knew for sure. There was not a single boy in Janus who was not scared of Harry Potter; Crazy Harry they called him. Even the new comers, those with huge egos and cruel streaks, gave a wide berth when Harry came walking along. It was his eyes they said. A sudden gleam of pure insanity that promised a journey to hell if they crossed him.

The Wardens didn't know why, but something strange always happened to those who tried to bully the scrawny boy. It was never a good strange.

Today was a strange day for Harry. His routine had been broken. Instead of meeting Beverly and giving her the silent treatment, he was to meet a Professor from a school for the gifted. Said professor was waiting in his room he was told.

Harry scowled. He hated his routine being interrupted.

His room was on the third floor of the five story dull square building. It was a big enough for a cot, cupboard and a steel commode attached to one corner. The ceiling was quite high and a long stem of steel hung down with a creaky old fan attached to it. A window with bars was fixed opposite the door and it overlooked an open sewer.

When Harry entered the room, his scowl deepened and the void responded to his ire. There was someone already sitting on his bed. It was a wrinkled old man with a long white hair and a long white beard. He was wearing ridiculous purple clothes that looked like a dress and had a star buckle holding a belt around his waist. The end of his beard was tucked into his belt and he was wearing a pointy black hat that made him look even more ridiculous. His shoes were clown like; red with pointy tips.

Taking in the sight of this odd man who looked like he was pulled out of a cheap comic made his ire disappear. This had to be a joke. Maybe the man belonged to one of those mental homes. Similar to the one he was supposed to go to until his last words at the trial a year ago.

Harry stared at the man and the man smiled back.

"Harry Potter," he said softly. "It is good to see you looking well."

The man waited for some sort of response but true to what the Teachers, Wardens and Doctors had said. The boy almost ever spoke.

Harry narrowed his eyes. The old man looked somewhat familiar, now that he had looked him over. He was there at the trail, except he was wearing a proper suit then. Harry wondered why he had come as a clown to his room. Didn't they say he was from a school for the gifted? He was beginning to doubt the validity of this meeting.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Have you heard of it?"

"What?" Harry couldn't help it. His soft voice rasped out the bewildered 'what' and he stared at the old man like he was bonkers. This meeting was getting stranger by the second.

Dumbledore smiled.

"You heard me and I'm sure you know what I mean. You didn't think you were the only one in this world around whom strange things happened did you?"

Suddenly the old man wasn't so clownish anymore.

"Has anything strange ever happened around you? Apart from the murder of your relatives I mean."

Harry scowled. Did this man know about the void?

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I can see from your expression you know what I'm talking about. Good. It makes my job easier. To put it simply, you're a wizard Harry."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. Albus Dumbledore supressed the shiver that threatened to run down his spine at the soft voice. There was something strange about it.

"Is it really so unbelievable? I can feel it you know. Your magic. It's quite strong for a child your age."

Harry narrowed his eyes. The man definitely was talking about the Void. So it was magic? He liked calling it the void better.

"What do you want from me?"

"So you can make sentences," Dumbledore joked. "I was beginning to get worried."

Harry scowled again. The old man was beginning to annoy him.

"You have a place in my school Harry. Your parents, who were a witch and wizard by the way, enrolled your name when your were three months old. It will be your home for seven years, until you're ready to join the magical world as an adult."

Only one word entered Harry's mind and he latched on to it hungrily. "My parents?" he whispered.

Dumbledore shuddered inside. That voice. It had a strange quality. There was magic infused in it. The boy radiated magic like no other person he had ever seen before. He had given Harry to the Dursley's to prevent his fame from affecting his growth and instead, he had literally handed the most famous boy in the magical world to monsters. In return, they had made a monster.

Strangely, though, the boy did not have any desires. His brief trip inside the boy's mind had revealed horrible memories of the Dursley's treatment of him and also the glimpse of the strange relationship the boy seemed to have with magic. It almost felt like the magic in him had a mind of its own. The boy was damaged, that was for sure and the reason he was willing to take him to Hogwarts was because he saw no deliberate malice in the boy. He was quite happy to be left to his own devices. He was dangerous when pushed however and that was something Dumbledore was going to keep an eye on.

"Yes. Your parents. They were attacked when you were one year old by an evil wizard and then you were sent to relatives for safety."

Harry chuckled at the thought of his relatives. Their mangled bodies flashed in his mind and he smiled broadly.

Dumbledore ignored that disturbing smile and continued. "They fought to keep you alive."

The thought of someone fighting for him changed the smile. Suddenly it wasn't so disturbing anymore.

"Would you like to come to my school?"

"Is it peaceful?" Harry asked. He liked peace and silence.

"To an extent," Dumbledore said carefully, "yes."

Shelter and the Void. Both in a new place where he could learn more about the void. "I'll come," he said resolutely. He loved learning about the void.


	3. Magic

**Magic**

The moment he agreed, Dumbledore nodded like he expected it all along and briefly explained the concept of apparation to Harry. He said he was taking Harry to a market to buy his supplies and held out his hand expectantly.

Harry looked at the extended hand uncomprehending what the headmaster wanted him to do.

"Take my hand Mr Potter," Dumbledore said gently.

"Why?"

"It is the only way to get where you want to go."

With great reluctance, Harry extended his hand and felt revulsion when he can in contact with the older man. A moment later his eyes went blind and he felt a great power crush him from all sides. The experience had left Harry gasping for breath but he could not stop the excitement bubbling in him. They could use the void to teleport! It was incredible. Harry was glad he said yes and the rest of the evening was a blur of magic brooms, goblins, gold, robes and wands. He purchased magic books with eagerness and roamed the Apothecary with fascination. He avoided the pet shop and almost went crazy (more than he already was) in the ice cream shop.

He couldn't stop tasting the flavours. They were so many of them. Dumbledore was in Gringotts, the goblin bank, drawing money for his supplies and Harry had a free run of the magical market. He was particularly high on the effect his new wand made on the void. With the wand, the void smoothly slid through the slim piece of wood and before it came out Harry could bend it to his will. He had started with exploding a garbage bin in the gaps between two buildings and laughed when the metal was torn apart by the void. It made a sort of wrenching sound before it crashed into the opposite walls with a loud clang. He couldn't wait to learn more. Before, the void could only move things. Now, with the wand, the possibilities were endless.

The number of people in the Market put him off though. He avoided them like the plague and always moved to the dusty corners of the shops he entered.

Flourish and Blotts; the largest bookstore in the Market was a shop Harry liked very much. The ground floor was full of people but the floors above were empty. A few children and adults roamed around, looking for books but other than that, it was quite empty.

Harry walked between the shelves idly, raking his eyes over the books, looking for anything that caught his interest. So far, he had loaded the basket he was dragging with books that held his name. Books with the words battle, dark arts and dangerous caught his eyes more than anything else did.

"Going a little overboard there aren't you? Do you think you can read them all before the start of term?"

Harry turned around, startled. It was a girl, who looked to be around his age and like all others; dressed in robes. She had golden hair that was manicured straight. An oval face with thin lips, high cheekbones and dark blue eyes topped with long eyelashes. The feature Harry took in was the fact that she was quite taller than him.

He scowled when she idly lifted one of the books in his basket like she owned the place and smirked at the title.

"I saw you with Headmaster Dumbledore before. It is very rare that he accompanies a student to buy supplies. Who are you?"

Harry stared at the girl like she was an idiot. He didn't appreciate others coming into his personal space and touching his belongings. Even though they weren't his yet.

The girl was either stupid or oblivious to his rising temper.

"Are you a mute?" she asked mockingly.

Harry had had enough. He summoned the void and was ready to swot her across the room but then for some reason, the headmasters blue eyes flashed in his mind and with uncharacteristic restraint, he whacked her hand instead. The girl shrieked and dropped the book back in the basket.

Suddenly she was looking at him like he was a different person. Her eyes were wide and she was rubbing her hand tenderly. "Did you just use magic!" she asked incredulously. "You didn't even draw your wand! Please don't tell me that was accidental. You are eleven aren't you?" she asked suddenly unsure. He could be just shopping for a sibling. He was easily two inches shorter than her and that was saying something. He was very pale and his head was a mess of black hair, which made her lips curl in disgust. His eyes however negated attention that his mop head drew and had drawn her in completely which led her to approach him in the first place. Green eyes of that shade were very rare according to her pre-school studies.

Harry turned his back on her and moved on. Talking to children annoyed him. They had nothing of worth to say. And even if they had, he had no interest in talking to one.

"Hey! Don't just walk away! I'm talking to you. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

"You're an annoyance that won't go away," Harry said finally, his voice soft with an undertone of warning. He retreated into the void. "Please leave or I'll make you leave."

The girl shuddered at his voice. It was a sort of soft yet firm and unyielding voice. It gave her goose bumps and she stopped in her tracks.

Harry smiled in satisfaction and walked away leaving behind a very curious girl.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Before the end of the day Dumbledore took Harry to an Ophthalmologist who to Harry's surprise decreed his eye sight to be extremely poor and proclaimed in was a miracle he was even able to walk without bumping into things. Harry was sceptical as he was able to see just fine, but when the lens was put in front of his eyes his jaw dropped at the suddenly clarity of the world. Images were clearer. Alphabets were sharper. Colours brighter. It was amazing. He had no idea the world looked so different and when he looked at Dumbledore questioning how he knew; the headmaster cryptically said it was Genes.

When they returned to Janus, Dumbledore handed Harry a letter and a ticket. He explained how to get to the magic platform and inquired if he would require any help on September 1st.

Harry shook his head and Dumbledore turned to leave with a nod. However, before he left he turned to Harry and looked at him penetratingly. His deep blue eyes looked cold as ice and Harry felt more than a little uncomfortable.

"I expect you to behave yourself and not hurt anyone in _my_ school. If you do, I promise, you _will_ regret it."

The Void felt fear and Harry nodded with wide eyes.

Dumbledore disappeared without a sound.

The next one month, Harry buried himself in the books he had bought and he understood why Dumbledore had used magic to hide his scar. Apparently, he was famous for killing a Dark Lord when he was one year old. It made him chuckle. Looks like the Dursley's hadn't been his first kill after all.

Sometimes he wondered if they were to be the last. Then the obese visage of Dudley swam in his memories and he decided that Dudley was to be the last. The books also made Harry realise the Wizards were unaware of Harry's murderous feast at Privet Drive at that disappointed Harry. It had been a very artistic night after all.

By the time 1st September arrived, Harry had devoured a History of Dark Lords, his schoolbooks, magic a common wizard should know, and his favourite; The Dark Arts and their Follies. Magic, Harry decided, was fantastic and incredible while the school books were dull and stale. He sincerely hoped there was a worthwhile library at the school or else he would have to make more trips to the Market.

At 10:00 am, Harry summoned his shrunk trunk and put it in his pocket. His wand was safely in his newly charmed pants with pockets longer than his arm. He also had brand new round specs balanced over his nose.

He was wearing a brand new, clean and ironed white shirt and his school robe was neatly tucked into his breast pocket that was also charmed to be longer than his arm and wider than a table for four. His hair was wet and neatly pushed to one side. His pale lightening bolt scar was hidden with the magic he had seen Dumbledore use to hide the scar. The wand was really useful.

Harry summoned the void around him and recreated the magic he had seen around Dumbledore. Then, from within his locked room, Harry disappeared with a loud crack and reappeared in an alley near Kings Cross.

He mentally shook off the nauseous feeling of being squeezed like a wet cloth and walked out of the alley. He navigated around traffic and people and hurried towards platform 9 and 10.

As he walked on the platform the void sensed magic in one of the pillars and he knew that was it. He had to walk through it according to the headmaster's instructions. Harry didn't do it. What if the headmaster was joking? He had come dressed as a clown after all, he wondered. His doubts were put to rest when he saw a family of three quietly walk through the wall with a large trolley in hand.

Harry smiled and then quickly shut his mouth before following the family with his eyes closed. He felt like he walked through some kind of slimy membrane and then he opened his eyes. His eyes widened in wonder. A golden scarlet train attached to an ancient steam engine filled the platform with its presence. It was beautiful.

The number of screaming children and laughing parents on the platform put him off and he quickly headed inside the train. He found an empty compartment and settled near the window and then he saw parents and children peeking in through the window either looking for good seats or looking for their children. He got up and chose an empty compartment over looking a scatter of trees and dozens of rail tracks. He wondered if those were the non-magical tracks, or muggle as the books called them or if they were tracks for more magical trains. He wondered if the train could fly.

A couple of hours later the train wasn't flying and Harry was curled up in his place staring out the window, through gold rimmed spectacles, with fascination, as green and blue blurred past. It was his first time in a train and the light rocking and sounds of the metal wheels rolling over steel tracks was addictive. He giggled every time the wheels went over the gaps between the tracks, which sounded; to him like the train was going to fall of a cliff and everyone on board would die.

He of course would survive.

He imagined the awe-inspiring sight of all the broken, dead bodies in a sea of red ooze and giggled again.

"What's so funny?" asked the boy sitting opposite him nervously. Harry's giggle wasn't funny. It was freaky.

Harry ignored him. He disliked kids even though he was one too. He disliked people in general. They were noisy and kept disturbing his thoughts. He sank into the void and felt its welcome emptiness.

"Ignore him," said another boy. "He's been fixed in that position since the train began to move and he giggles and laughs every now and then."

The other boy glanced at Harry nervously and turned back to the other boy with a weak smile. "Can he hear us?"

"If he can, he's ignoring us. Do you get the hint?"

The nervous boy laughed. "I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom."

"Draco Malfoy."

Neville paled.

"Heard about my family have you," Draco said with a smirk. "I've heard about yours as well. Your grandmother is really scary you know."

"Y-yes. She is."

"Who do you think he is?" Draco asked, jerking a finger toward Harry who was giggling again.

"Must have escaped from an asylum I think," Neville joked.

Draco snorted. "He's insane that's for sure. Anyway, I hear Harry Potter is on this train somewhere. Want to help me find him? The Boy who lived is going to need someone to show him around and we purebloods should be the ones to do it, don't you think?"

Neville stared at the thin but confident boy. He was not much taller than him but he looked like a prince. A prince with bleach blonde hair that was regally slicked back. Neville felt his insecurities and inefficiencies rise. Why did this boy from one of the most powerful families in England want him; a pudgy and weak wizard, to join him?

"Well?" Draco demanded impatiently. "Are you coming or not?"

"S-sure," Neville stammered. "Let me get Trevor."

"Tre-who?"

"My toad," Neville said absently looking around.

He missed the disgusted sneer that grew on the blonde.

"He'll turn up. Now let's go!"

Draco didn't wait for a reply. He grabbed Neville's wrist and dragged him out, ignoring his splutters and protests.

Once they left, Harry turned away from the window and glanced at the open door with a cold expression. "I shouldn't kill them," he said to himself with a sigh. The idea of cutting them up into pieces and rearranging their body parts imagined quite appealing. "The headmaster wouldn't like that."

A shiver ran down his spine. The headmaster was a scary person. He didn't want to anger such a person.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Few more people came into the cabin and for some reason they didn't stay long. Harry wondered why they spoke so much trash. Silence was so much more beautiful. Thoughts made more sense than words. Words made no sense. Thoughts on the other hand were much more reliable.

Speaking thoughts never made sense and hence his firm decision to not speak. Although he would argue it was more to do with avoiding conversations. He was a born and breed an anti-social being after all. A being who cared about nothing but his void.

Harry chuckled at the train of his thoughts and left the void when the train jerked to a stop. He got off the train, onto a dull grey platform and followed the voice of an actual giant with an atrocious accent.

Bodies bumped into him and he scowled fiercely when he noticed a few taller and older boys sniggering at his small stature. He was easily the shortest among all.

Before he could summon the void to teach those boys size didn't matter, he was shoved again and this time a girl who's way he was in.

"The giant is calling us. Move," she demanded.

Harry clenched his teeth. The void began to bubble.

"Oye! You in tha back!" the giant called suddenly. His voice louder than a cannon boom. "Dark hair and round glasses! Get into the boat will ya!"

Harry listened and forced the void to settle down while grumbling under his breath. He glared at the girl who shoved him and got into the boat with her.

The girl looked him over and smirked. "Did you never get out much or are you the love child of a vampire?" she mocked.

"All of ye duck!" shouted the giant when a particularly low bridge came looming in front of them.

Everyone automatically ducked but the girl suddenly found herself to be stuck. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk! She began to panic and her roving eyes locked on Harry. Harry looked into her eyes and smiled.

The back of her head hit the wall with a crunch and she fell into the water.

Harry let her go.

She burst above the surface, screaming and flailing about. "Help! Help me!" she screamed. She sank into the water and kicked her body back above spluttering and screaming in terror.

"Oye! Boy! Help her!"

There was no one else in the boat. Harry just leaned back and watched her with glittering eyes. He wanted to see her drown. He had never seen anyone drown before.

Before the giant could jump into the lake and save the girl, a giant shadow suddenly rose below the surface of the lake and to every child's shock and awe, a giant tentacle rose above the surface and pushed the girl back into the boat.

She lay there, shivering, scared, head hurting and sobbing.

"Are ye aright?" yelled the giant. "Squiddy won't let anyone drown!" Harry detected a tone of relief in the giant's voice hinting at not complete confidence in Squiddy.

"I'm.. I'm…"

"Oh! Look ahead all of ye!"

Heads swivelled from the girl to the front and oooo's and aaaahhh's went rolling through the air. Harry never turned and kept his eyes fixed on the girl.

He stood up to get closer to her and she immediately scrambled back in fear.

Harry smiled. He couldn't help it. He then reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his Hogwarts robe. "To keep you warm," he said softly.

"T-thank you," she stuttered. There was red dripping down the back of her neck; she was spared more damage that's to the roots that grew all over the low bridge. Harry almost laughed at the shape of her nose. The tip was bent upwards and her nostrils were on display if she turned up her nose. Her face was small and she had long black hair. Her dark eyes were now looking at Harry warily.

Her eyes then turned away from him and looked behind. Her gasp made Harry turn and his eyes widened.

The sight was awe-inspiring. The massive stone structure, lit by the light of a half moon, rose majestically into the night sky and broadened, curved and disappeared through a forest that looked menacing as it did inviting. Thin towers could be seen stretching even higher if he squinted and as the boats got closer, an arch shaped double door thrice the size of the giant came into view.

Harry couldn't make out the shape of the castle. He would have had to travel much further away and higher too fully grasp the size and shape of the castle known as Hogwarts.

Harry pulled on the void to immediately he gasped at the amount of warmth and welcome the castle radiated. It almost felt like the magic around was alive! He had never felt such joy before. It was a strange rush and the smile the graced his face and lit his eyes went unnoticed by all. They would have thought him a completely different person.

This castle. Hogwarts. It felt like home.

The boats bumped into the shore and the giant led them across wet mud and grass to the castle doors.

Harry felt the magic of the castle wrap around him like a cocoon. It felt amazing.

The giant lifted a doorknocker larger than three boys put together and banged the door once, twice and then a third time.

The thuds felt like nothing to those outside but Harry was sure inside, the noise would have woken half the castle.

Suddenly a gold hairline crack appeared between the doors and then with a great groan, the wood began to open and light flooded out, blinding those outside.

It took a moment for their sight to return and when it did, the doors were fully open and standing at the entrance of what seemed to be a huge corridor, was an old woman. Her grey hair was neatly folded into a bun above her head. Her grey eyes were lined with wrinkles and everything about her screamed prim and proper. She stood straighter than a bamboo tree and her eyes swept over the crowd of children regally.

"Were there any problems Hagrid?" she asked. Her voice cracked like a whip and Harry found himself unconsciously smoothening his robes and straightening his back. He didn't want to cross this lady.

Hagrid jerked a thumb the size of Harry's leg at the shivering girl. "She fell in ter the lake. Squiddy pushed er' back in."

The professor snapped her fingers and to everyone's amazement the girl was dry, her clothes freshened and her body was steaming with warmth.

Only Harry noticed the quick moment of the wand in her left hand.

He grinned. It was a cool trick. He almost missed the little quirk of her lips showing her amusement.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. My name is Professor McGonagall. Follow me for the sorting."

That said, she turned swiftly and walked into the castle.

Quickly the new students followed and some gulped at the line of armour and sharp looking weapons that were lined on either side of the corridor. High above, candle lit chandeliers floated lazily casting just enough light to see where one was going.

A chuckle made Harry look to the side sharply. It sounded like it had come from the suit of armour but it was as still as a dead man. Harry walked on but glared at the suits suspiciously. He was sure the chuckle had come from one of them.

Soon they reached another set of doors. These smaller than those at the entrance but still huge nonetheless.

"Hogwarts," began the professor. "Is divided into four houses. The sorting will determine which house you below to and where you would grow the most, magically and mentally. The houses are designed to create competition and not hostility. You are encouraged to make friends outside your house and overall, became a witch or a wizard, Hogwarts can be proud of!"

Some students clapped enthusiastically and some hesitantly. Harry couldn't help but think there was more to the speech than what was said.

"Now without further ado."

The doors opened.

For a moment, Harry thought they had walked into the outside grounds again. There were four long tables lined up side by side with students, small and large occupying the wooden bench, looking towards them with deep curiosity. Hundreds of eyes focused on the first years and understandably, many of them got nervous.

Harry didn't notice the stares. His eyes rolled up and when they could roll no further his head turned up and stared. He summoned the Void and the sight astounded him.

"I've read it's enchanted to look like the sky outside," came a whisper near him.

Harry wasn't enamoured by the sky. He was left speechless with the magic he could see that made up the roof! It was dense and energetic. His magic when summoned, looked like a slight distortion to him, but this, this was something else. There were layers and layers of colours, almost like thunderclouds. They rolled with a fury expected from a storm and colours danced across the roof.

Harry's heart sped up. He wondered why the void was colourless and this magic that enchanted the roof was so vibrant and full of life. Could he do the same with the Void?

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry jerked out of his trance and looked towards the voice; startled.

The hall was buzzing with curiosity and excitement.

"Harry Potter! If you're here please step up!" shouted Professor McGonagall in a thoroughly annoyed voice.

The students around him look left and right, looking for a hero with a scar and when Harry stepped forward many gasped.

"Is that really him?"

"He looks fragile!"

"I don't see the scar."

"That can't possibly be Harry Potter."

The wonder was replaced with a more familiar feeling. Anger. The Void wanted to lash out at the voices. They were annoying.

Harry reached the professor and she gestured for him to sit on the stool. Harry sat and saw hundreds of faces looking at him with various emotions reflected in their faces before a hat dropped over his eyes and blocked his sight.

 _'Well well well,'_ said a deep and manly voice. ' _Bee in your bonnet Mr Potter?'_

 _'The hat can talk?'_ thought Harry.

 _"I'm talking in your mind Mr Potter. No one can hear us. I must say, it's been a while since a mind as twisted and damaged as yours has come to me for a sorting."_

A brief moment of panic struck Harry. _The hat could read his mind?!_

 _'Calm down,'_ the hat said and immediately Harry felt himself relaxing. He knew it was magic affecting his senses.

 _'You aren't the first to panic about their thoughts and memories being examined. What happens in your mind stays in your mind and mine.'_

 _'Get out.'i_

 _'Not until we decide where you belong and it's quite obvious really.'_

Harry tried not to think. He didn't want the hat to be in his mind any longer but something was preventing him from lashing out and tearing the hat to shreds.

 _'I'd be a rich hat if I counted the number of times students have had such destructive thoughts about me. I'd also be a rich hat if I counted the number of psychopaths I've sorted. You, however, are a different kind of psychopath. More than getting your kicks by killing, you get them by learning about magic. Dumbledore was an idiot to leave you with those muggles. Slytherin had the right idea you know; muggles and wizards cannot get along.'_

 _'What the fuck are you on about?'_

 _'So the boy can talk. How wonderful. And an abuse mixed in too. Absolutely genius.'_

Harry scowled. The hat was beginning to piss him off and there was nothing he could do about it.

 _'You have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and you've been brought up in hate and pain. You're not rash like Gryffindor and neither are you manipulative like Slytherin. You're ruled by emotions and you need to learn about emotions if you are to choose a path. The question is; are you capable of undoing the damage done to your mind or will you continue to wallow in hate and become a true monster.'_

 _…_

 _'Stop imagining mutilating me Mr Potter. You can't. I'm protected by more than just spells. I need an answer from you if I'm to sort you."_

Harry didn't stop.

The hat sighed. _'Well that gives me more of an answer than you could ever hope to understand with your current mind-set. Gryffindor would have served you well but for now you belong in…'_

 _"_ RAVENCLAW _"_


	4. Hogwarts

**Hogwarts**

They tried to befriend him. They tried to talk to him.

They tried to welcome him and all they felt was a concrete wall, reinforced with steel.

He buried himself in books and attended his classes with religious fervour.

Learning about magic was all he cared about.

Harry Potter had successfully gained a reputation as an anti-social and a snob.

Charms and Transfiguration were Harry's favourite classes. He had risen to the position of star student. Prodigy in the making with the ease with which he mastered spells. Theory was unnecessarily twisted and complicated but the magic was simple. Harry had mastered control over the Void a long time ago. All that was needed now was direction and with the wand, it was too easy.

Potions was weird. The Professor seemed to target him during the entire class and Harry ignored him while answering all the questions. It was the few times anyone ever got to hear his voice. The soft quality of it made those in hearing vicinity shudder. They felt like a dangerous undertone lay hidden in his voice. Even Snape left him alone after the first class.

History of Magic severely disappointed Harry. The ghost who taught the class seemed to be stuck in some kind of time loop. He repeated the same story with a haunted look and haunted voice while he haunted the classroom of History. The monotonous drone of the ghost made Harry make a note to learn how to exorcise ghosts.

Astronomy felt like a waste of time. He had no desire to learn about the constellations and their meanings. But when the teacher told them about the position of stars affecting magic in a unique way, Harry was all ears.

Defence against the Dark Arts was astoundingly ridiculous. The Professor stuttered all the time and never got around to teaching them anything apart from learning how to block a pinching spell or about how to cast a pinching spell. The name of the class was nothing like he had imagined after reading that book on Dark Arts. The book he had bought had nothing about spells in it. It only spoke about the horrors and products of Dark Magic. It was more like a vague history book than knowledge. That got Harry thinking and with the desire to learn more about this mysterious Dark Arts, Harry was on the prowl in the Library.

To his annoyance, the books he wanted were in the Restricted Section and he couldn't enter without the permission of a teacher. The wailing screech when he had crossed an invisible line had shown him what would happen without permission. His ear still throbbed after the librarian had dragged him away and it took all his will not to kill her then and there.

Kill.

The word echoed in his mind more often than ever after his arrival in Hogwarts.

He restrained his instincts. His thirst for magic kept his blood from boiling. It simmered all the time, but it never boiled. Harry knew if it boiled, Dumbledore would take magic away from him.

"Excuse me," a haughty voice interrupted his dark thoughts.

Green eyes slid of the restricted section signboard and refocused on a girl. It was the same girl from the Market and she didn't look pleased to see him.

Harry looked at her with a blank stare.

"You're Harry Potter. You didn't think that was something you could have mentioned the first time we met?"

Had she forgotten he had brushed her off the last time they met, thought Harry.

He turned away from her strolled deeper into the library. Maybe there was something he could find that wasn't in the restricted section and was worth a read.

"Excuse me! Just because you're famous does not give you the right to ignore me! Don't you know who I am?!"

 _I could make her bleed. A nick on her hand? Or maybe the neck. That would keep her away. But Dumbledore wouldn't like it... Maybe he won't find out?_

Harry hesitated.

The girl got the wrong impression and quickly walked in front of him to block his way. She wore a triumphant expression and faced him with an arrogance that made Harry want to snap her neck instead of making her bleed.

 _Talk to her and get it done with. Maybe she won't bother us after that._

"What do you want?" Harry asked with disinterest.

Like last time, his voice sent a shudder down her spine. It wasn't quite normal. It sounded normal but it was soft and there was something in it that made his innocent voice sound very dangerous. Her confidence faltered but her desire to know more about him won out.

"To be friends," she said firmly.

Harry blinked. She had been persistent because she wanted to be friends?

"Friends?" Harry echoed strangely. It was an entirely foreign concept to him and based on what he had seen of Dudley and his cohorts, he had no interest in friends. The word, after thinking about it for a moment, disgusted him entirely.

"You're an interesting person. I saw the books you selected. Did you finish reading them?"

The thought of books took Harry's thoughts back to the restricted section and his scowl deepened. "I need to get in there," he said, jerking a finger towards the red signboard that read 'Restricted Section'."

"Really!" she gasped. "Whatever for? There's all sorts of book on Dark Magic in there!"

Harry said nothing but his eyes conveyed a message that was to be interpreted as mind your own business.

"Well you need a Professor's permission," she said hesitantly. "I could ask Professor Snape. The other teachers would ask too many questions."

Random thoughts connected into an idea and Harry smiled.

The girl involuntarily took a step back.

"Get me that permission and we can be friends," said Harry. _Like that was going to happen, he thought with a mental giggle._ That said Harry slid past her walked away leaving behind a stunned girl.

A moment later she scowled as he disappeared around the dark bends of the bookracks.

"That jerk didn't even ask me my name," she huffed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ever since the offer of friendship, Harry began observing the behaviour of his fellow students and soon came to a simple conclusion. Friendship, it seemed, turned people into annoying giggling and laughing creatures who spoke of things that had no relevance to magic. When they were alone, they were quiet and focused on learning. The conclusion was further reinforced during a class of Transfiguration.

He had noticed a Gryffindor girl who seemed to have a love for giving answers for every question laid in the path of her mind. While her overzealous nature was annoying, he didn't think much of her. But a month into their first year she began to talk with her fellow Gryffindors and soon instead of focusing on giving answers like she used to, she would glance at them hesitantly and reluctantly put her arm down and laugh with them at times during class. It wasn't long before she stopped raising her arm unless no one else did or if the Professor aimed a question at her.

She had been one of the few who hadn't stared at him like he was a unique creature in a zoo and she still didn't. Now Harry felt pity for her and anger towards her as well. How could she let her thirst for magic be subdued? Were these Witches and Wizards even worthy of having the power of magic?! They could not see the void, they could not adeptly perform simple magic and they treated magic with no respect! Just looking at them wave their wands clumsily and not get spells correct made him mad. And when he got mad, he got the urge to kill people.

"How long do you intend to stare at Ms Granger, Mr Potter," cut in a sharp voice. "Are you finding my lectures boring?"

Ms Granger, upon hearing the startling statement turned sharply and looked at Harry but the boy had already refocused his gaze on the Professor.

"No Professor," Harry said truthfully.

"Then perhaps you'd like to prove it by changing the properties of this matchstick from wood to sliver."

Harry was always eager to embrace the void. He pulled on that part of his mind where his power lay and channelled it into his wand. Then without saying the incantation Harry focused on what the Professor had taught them about metals and organic matter and sent a pulse of magic through his wand.

The brown matchstick with the phosphorous tip shimmered and exquisitely morphed into a threading needle, complete with a sharp tip and a little hole at the back for the thread to go in.

McGonagall had expected him to stutter and balk. The class expected a cold response. No one expected him to go ahead and transfigure the matchstick when the Professor had only just completed simplifying the complex task of explaining the properties of metal and wood to eleven year olds and hadn't even come to the practical aspect of the transfiguration.

Harry felt a rush of thrill. The transformation was perfect. He looked up at the Professor waiting for a response and saw a blank face staring at him. Harry frowned. Had he done something wrong?

"10 Points to Ravenclaw," she said in a clipped tone and slid her eyes over the rest of the class. "This is the kind of skill I expect from all of you. As Mr Potter has adeptly shown, if the theory is understood, then the mechanics of the spell and wand moments are simple. All you…"

Professor Minerva McGonagall glanced at the pale and anti-social Potter. It seemed none of her students had noticed he hadn't said the spell. While calling out the spell name was unnecessary, it was necessary to focus the mind to channel and understand the magic in play. It told her volumes about the capabilities of Harry Potter and his mind set. Considering what he had done and where he had ended up, the possibilities scared her. What did the future hold for this boy? She was one of the few who knew the truth about his past.

When the class was over Harry quietly gave those still attempting to talk to him the slip and ghosted towards the library. The girl had subtly sent him a note during Charms instructing him to meet her at the library. She had looked like she could barely contain her excitement.

She was waiting at the entrance to the library.

"I did it," she said with barely supressed glee. "I told Professor Snape I wanted to research on the variations of the sleeping draught and he signed the slip without even looking! I had to ask some of the seniors how to cast a concealment spell on parchment, you know, to hide you name but as it turns out, it wasn't even required!"

The girl was red in the face, her eyes alive with broad smile stretching her cheeks. She was clearly still exuberant over her success.

Harry looked at her pointedly and stretched out a hand to look at the slip but she quickly snatched it back and made a taunting sound. "Ah, ah. There's a condition attached."

Harry suppressed his annoyance.

"You have to ask me my name and tell me why you want access to the Restricted Section."

Harry glared. His nostrils flared and his anger pulsed.

The girl faltered in her triumph but she didn't back down. She stared back with almost equal will.

Finally, Harry's desire to learn more about magic won out. "What's your name," he asked.

The girl grinned and opened the face of her palm for a handshake. "Daphne," she said. "Daphne Greengrass. I'm sure you've heard of the name."

Harry snatched the paper out of her hand and walked into the library missing her stunned and outraged look.

"Hey!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A month had passed since school had reopened and Dumbledore was rotating a glass of whiskey in his hands absentmindedly. It was his first drink in 11 years. The last being a toast to victory and this being a cure for a headache. A headache that went by the name of Harry Potter. A headache of his own creation.

"I feel like history is repeating itself Fawkes," Dumbledore sighed.

A bird of red and gold and black beads as eyes stared at him curiously.

"He's like the second coming of Tom Riddle only without the needless cruelty and touched by insanity."

Dumbledore felt his age when he thought about the circumstances leading to Harry's withdrawal into a world of his own. He could have never imagined the Dursley's would be physically abusive to their own orphaned nephew. He never imagined Petunia; the same girl who had pleaded to come to Hogwarts, would unleash such horror on her own sister's son.

He had a feeling she might resent him for what he was but what occurred in Privet Drive went beyond nightmares.

A knock on his door disturbed his thoughts and he waved his arm impatiently.

McGonagall walked in.

"Well?"

"He's scary," she said without pleasantries. "His command over magic is incredible and is something not even adults would be able to do. He is one of your kind of Wizards," she said grimly.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a sip. His kind of wizards. Those destined to pull the Magical World to their Will, shaping the future around their powers.

"Has he shown any inclination towards socialising?"

McGonagall snorted. "Daphne Greengrass has been seen having one sided conversations with him. Everyone else avoids him like the plague.

In the past Dumbledore had isolated Riddle and tried to keep magic away from him. This time he resolved to do the opposite and hope Harry Potter embraced the light and not the dark.

"Encourage him to learn more about magic. Call him to your office often and ask Flitwick to do the same."

"What about the Stone?"

"It's too dangerous to keep it here now. I'm sending it back to Flamel." Dumbledore feared what a conversation between Harry and Voldemort would lead to.

"And Quirrel?"

"I'll be taking care of that soon."

"If that is all may I leave?"

"Thank you Minerva."


	5. Daphne

**Daphne**

 _"Don't sully yourself with those with intelligence below yours Daph. Find those whose quality and intelligence is above yours. Stay in their radius and strive to match them until you're looking down on them. There will always be someone above you Daph. You need to rise above them all."_

Daphne recited her father's words in her mind every time she met someone new. That day, in Flourish and Blotts, the day she met Harry Potter, even if she didn't know it. Her father's words echoed fiercely in her memories. His words, said to her on his death bed, before the fall of the prestige of her family, before people began to forget the name Greengrass, screamed at her that the boy in front of her would be a key pawn in the rise of her name. For revenge against the Purebloods who carved up her family's treasures, the strange boy picking books ahead of his age, was to be surpassed or used.

When she found out he was Harry Potter, her heart leapt. What better person to choose as a measuring stick?

"You know, you seem to have a strange obsession with dark magic," Daphne commented with raised eyebrows as Harry sat opposite her, hunched, with eyes devouring the small book they had found in the Restricted Section.

"Good magic doesn't have any of the good stuff," he had said to her.

Daphne no longer felt creeped out when he spoke. Rare as it was. His voice was still soft and he spoke with clear enunciations and the sense of danger she first sensed when she met him was still there but she chose to ignore it. She felt like she was beginning to understand and know who Harry Potter was, even though he said nothing about his life nor did he speak about the future. All he cared about was learning magic and he looked down upon those who didn't appreciate magic for what it truly was. He was quite the bookworm.

 _The Power to do anything you desire;_ he had whispered one day during a particularly exciting Charms class with the Slytherins.

Flitwick had decided to test the classes' creativity when it came to the levitation charm. Most of the class wondered what he was talking about and came up with feeble answers but then Flitwick showed them the power of the levitation charm. He showed them what a simple charm was capable of in the hands of a master. It was localised application of the charm in a complex fashion. Harry could see hundreds of threads of magic dancing out of the Charms master's wand. It was truly incredible.

He made the entire class dance. Tables, chairs and even the students were at mercy to his wand movements as parts of the furniture and parts of their bodies were unwillingly levitated, dropped, levitated and guided to the sounds of an upbeat piano track that was playing out of an ancient record player.

Harry was stunned. He felt his arms move independent of his will. His body rise, defying the pull of gravity and his eyes could see, hundreds of thin strings of magic streaming out of the Professors wand, pulsating like a living thing as it took control of the entire class like a puppeteer. And all it took was mastery over a first year spell.

 _The Power to do anything you desire,_ he whispered in awe.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _Halloween_**

"Potter give you the slip again Daphne?" chortled Tracey Davis.

Daphne sniffed regally and regarded her brunette friend with a glare.

Tracey was a half-blood who was trying her best to fit into the Slytherin world. Her family was not well off like the rest of her housemates and she had latched onto Daphne when the blonde didn't sneer at her with prejudice when her blood status was announced. She was a pleasant girl with a fragile personality that was masked by ambition. She was brought up in the muggle world and was studious girl who had regularly topped her grades. It was the reason Daphne allowed her to be her friend. Tracey gave her a fascinating insight into the muggle world and it was good to have a study partner who actually studied.

The brunette shrank from the glare and chuckled nervously.

"He didn't give me the slip," Daphne huffed, crossing her arms. "He went back to his common room."

"I don't understand why you're so determined to follow him around. Draco says…."

"I don't care to know what Draco says," Daphne interrupted sharply.

"Sorry," muttered Tracey, her brown eyes looking away.

Daphne sighed. "I shouldn't have snapped. Sorry. It's just that Granger girl. She really gets on my nerves!"

The two friends entered the great hall and gasped at the festive atmosphere.

Ghosts were everywhere. The hall was decorated with animated skeletons and floating pumpkins that were breathing fire. Ominous laughter boomed out of nowhere and the entire school was feasting at their house tables. Many were dressed to scare and others, dressed for giggles.

"Coo~ool!" breathed Tracey and Daphne grinned in agreement. It was a brilliant sight to behold.

Daphne's eyes zoomed to the Ravewclaw table and sure enough, there was Harry; carefully slicing the steak on his silver plate.

 _He has a strange obsession with cutting his food into tiny pieces_ , Daphne thought.

"Oye! Tracey!"

It was Blaise Zabini. A tall and dark boy from Africa. Daphne liked him. He was cultured and his accent made her blush. He was like an exotic human but he wasn't very bright. Rumour had it his mother was a classic black widow with a record of seven dead husbands and a fortune the size of a mountain. He had coal black eyes that seemed to bore into your soul and his smile was devilish.

He was sitting with Draco and his gang.

Daphne supressed her blush and followed Tracey to their table where Blaise had saved them a place.

"Happy Halloween," he said, his deep voice inflected with cheer.

"Happy Halloween to you too," Tracey said brightly and hugged him.

Daphne supressed a strange feeling of jealously.

"Potter ditched you again huh Greengrass?" Draco commented lazily.

Daphne grit her teeth and glared at him. She didn't say anything and sat between Tracey and Millicent Bulstrode.

"I don't get what you see in him," Draco said. "He's got to be the most anti-social freak in the entire school! Not to mention that creepy voice."

Draco envisioned Daphne as his future wife. Her family was from a long line of purebloods and her most of their fortune was absorbed by the Malfoy's some years ago. Overhearing his father talk about their acquisition proudly made Draco believe that having Daphne as a wife would make his father proud.

"It's his mind that interests me Malfoy," she said coldly. "If you took a moment to stop admiring yourself, you'd see what a powerful wizard he is."

Draco reddened and sneered. "I could take him," he boasted.

Daphne snorted. "I'll like to be there to see it then."

"How about a wager than," Draco said.

The group around them looked in interest.

"I will challenge Potter to a duel and if I win you come to Malfoy Manor for our Christmas Ball."

Daphne shrugged. She was okay with that.

"And you'll have to be my date," he added with a smirk.

Daphne glowered. She was beautiful and she knew it; her mother said so all the time. She wasn't oblivious to the eyes that lingered on her and they made her nervous and wary. Although she doubted Draco understood puberty.

"And if you lose?" she asked acidly.

"I won't," he said confidently.

"What if you do," she pressed.

"Name your terms," Malfoy said grandly.

Daphne pondered for a moment before the answer struck her. Malfoy had been bragging about his dad's dark arts library the other day. He had mentioned having books that could never be found anywhere else in the world.

The beautiful golden haired girl grinned evilly. "If Harry wins, both he and I get to come to your Christmas Ball _and_ we get access to your library!"

Draco paled. "Are you crazy? My Dad would kill me!"

"I thought you were confident of victory," she said smugly.

Draco scowled. His pride wouldn't let him say no. "Alright," he barked unhappily.

"Swear it," Daphne demanded. "Swear it on the Pride of the Malfoy's!"

Pansy gasped. "Draco don't!" she said in her high pitched annoying voice.

"I swear to honour our terms on the Pride of the Malfoy's and I demand Daphne Greengrass do the same," he said with narrowed eyes.

"I swear to honour our terms," Daphne said simply. She then leaned back with a happy smile and relished the idea of giving Harry the news. Maybe then he would begin to open up to her a bit more.

Pansy on the other hand looked horrified. She would never forget those terrible green eyes staring at her with undisguised amusement at her near death experience.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next day, when Daphne dressed and came down to the common room, the room was abuzz with excitement and rumours. Apparently after Quirrell had arrived with news of a Troll loose in the castle, the troll had attacked a student, Quirrell was dead and Harry Potter had been involved.

Daphne's heart leapt with anxiety when she heard that.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly to the burly third year.

An ugly visage turned to her and grey eyes looked at her with what she recognised as attraction.

Daphne supressed her shudder, she was just eleven for god sake! She ignored his eyes and looked at him bravely.

"Apparently Potter had left the great hall before Quirrell turned up and ran into the troll near the fourth floor girl's bathroom," he said, trying his best to sound suave. "He saw the troll attacking a Griff first year and then blew the trolls brains out with a single spell!"

"And Quirrell?" she breathed. Where did the Professor fit into all this? How did he die!

"Quirrell tried to stop the troll as well but was crushed."

Whether the third year oaf wanted to or not, there was a tone of awe in his voice. A troll was listed as a dangerous species in the book of monsters for a reason after all.

"No, no, no," interrupted another girl. "I heard he apparated into the Troll's stomach and blew his guts out from the inside! Quirrell was nearby and got killed by flying guts!"

Daphne stopped listening and walked out of the common room quickly. Stupidity was beginning to rein its ugly head and she had to get out of there before it affected her. She had to find Harry.

It was still early in the morning, just 7:30, and she hoped Harry would be there.

She literally ran to the great hall and to her immense relief he was actually there. There were many students who were staring at him and barely controlling their desire to question him and they steamed with jealousy when she slid into the seat next to him and ignored the hostile stares from the rest of the Ravenclaw table.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

Harry graced her with a glance and went back to neatly cutting his omelette into fine pieces.

"I hear you took on a troll last night. Care to share some details?"

As usual he didn't respond. But she was used to that now.

The table lost their hostility and listened with baited breath. Everybody wanted to hear the tale from the horse's mouth.

"Come on Harry. Give me something," Daphne said with a huff. "It's not every day a first year battles a troll! Were you hurt?"

There was a pulse of something.

A dangerous chill began to emanate from Harry and Daphne gulped. Maybe it was a bad idea to question the moody boy so early in the morning?

"Or maybe I'll just talk later," she said warily and as quick as she came. She left.

Hollow green eyes stared at her retreating form. Contemplating once again, whether the strange bond the golden hair girl had formed with him was worth keeping. He decided to ponder over the matter after breakfast.


	6. The Experience

**The Experience**

The short battle with the troll had been exhilarating. Fighting a magical creature that fought back and drew blood had drawn out something Harry had kept supressed for too long.

He had been on his way back to his common room when he had heard a roar and a scream. Curious, he navigated towards the din and stumbled upon the sight of a humanoid creature with green skin, a long face with droopy eyes and mouth with thick purple lips half open. It was wearing a loincloth and a jacket that looked like it was made from animal skin; holding a big wooden club in thick meaty hands that looked like it had been awkwardly carved and decorated with thorns. The lethal club was pursuing a screaming and scrambling girl in an effort to crush her into paste. Harry recognised her as Hermione Granger.

The void bubbled. There was a living being before them and it was attacking a student. His instinct told him there would be no trouble if he unleashed the void at the Troll. At last, an opportunity to kill with the void! He didn't need words to scream his intent. He weaved his wand and with a feral grin cast a bone breaking curse towards the troll.

To his shock, the curse simply splashed against the beast. It frowned and looked around, as if looking for a mosquito or a fly. The creature, which Harry now recognised as a Troll spotted Harry and glared at him stupidly.

Harry grinned. His eyes danced with bloodlust. He raised his wand with a dramatic flourish and pushed the void out of his wand with greater will. The intent was to melt the skin of his target and this time the curse made the Troll jump in pain. The skin around his shoulder where the curse hit looked like the troll had got mildly burnt.

The troll roared and lumbered towards Harry with its club raised.

Harry pulled at the void, expelling it towards the troll with the intent of stopping it in its tracks.

It worked.

Unfortunately, the troll swung the club down and shattered the floor along with Harry's concentration. A broken tile screamed past his face and cut a thin line of skin on his neck.

It roared again and stumbled forward as the void lost its hold on it.

Harry, quick as a cat, rolled away from the path of the club and stood up and ran past the troll. He skidded to a halt facing the back of the beast and remembered about the cutting hex he had read about.

There was a smile on his face and the feeling of blood pumping through his veins was making him excited. He felt the cut on his neck sting and his desire to kill the Troll seduced his senses.

He quickly ran through the necessary wand movements before the troll could turn around. A glowing silver rope sprang out of his wand and wrapped itself around the troll's neck.

Harry immediately felt a powerful pull on the void as the troll roared and tried to break free of the noose. He grunted in exertion and focused on the void. There was a connection between the spell and him and suddenly it became a battle of wills between the troll and him. He felt as if he were trying to crush a mountain. His will was the wind, an unstoppable flow that only got stronger if denied movement. He pushed more of the void, more than ever before, into the spell and envisioned the mountain made of sand.

It happened almost instantaneously. One minute Harry was panting, his mind under severe strain, pouring all of his power into the spell, and the Troll choking, it's hands pulling against the rope, it's eyes bulging. It stumbled and hit the wall, struggling for air and suddenly, the silver rope cut through troll skin and the troll stopped making noises. Its body shuddered and with a disgusting squelch, the head detached and fell to the ground with a thud.

Hermione retched.

Still high on the adrenaline of a great battle, Harry turned wide and excited eyes towards the Gryffindor girl. The void, in celebration, urged him to kill her too.

Harry grinned maliciously and took a step toward the girl. Hermione, who was recovering her senses, froze in terror once again.

Fortunately, the sound of running footsteps made the void retreat and Harry's insane delight reverted back to his stoic mask.

Hermione trembled.

It was that scene that McGonagall and Snape stumbled onto. A corridor cracked, a bathroom in ruins, two part Troll oozing green blood all over the floor, and Harry Potter, standing with his wand out, as cool as you like, with an unreadable expression on his pale face.

"Oh my word!" gasped McGonagall and quickly rushed towards Hermione who was still cowering near the shattered sinks with glazed eyes staring at nothing. "She's in shock!" McGonagall exclaimed. She conjured a stretcher out of thin air and Harry raised an eye in interest. That was an interesting spell. Not to mention she had instantaneously combined it with a levitating charm.

Following that Snape questioned Harry and Harry replied with silence. Fifteen minutes later Snape was ready to murder Harry and his temper was contained when Dumbledore showed up looking tried. Dumbledore swept his eyes across the hall, healed the cut on Harry's neck and politely asked Snape what happened. Snape explained while throwing in some nasty comments which Harry ignored. After half an hour of being examined under a microscope Dumbledore finally let Harry go.

The one thing Harry took away from the encounter was, that during those three minutes of fighting with Death on the cards, he was truly, absolutely _alive._

It was his first step to a dream that was to become his obsession. A dream that would bring Magical London to its knees.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next day, after a sleep plagued by screams and half remembered dreams, Harry woke up feeling more irritable than usual.

When Daphne came to his side, his irritation spiked. Usually he would tolerate her presence but today he was feeling on the edge. He was missing the thrill of a magical fight. He was almost in withdrawal.

His memory of killing Petunia and the troll were cycling in his mind. There was an urge in him. An urge to hurt someone or something! Watching all the students around him make such poor use of their magical powers made him more irritated. He couldn't stand the fact that wizards and witches took their gifts for granted!

He breezed through classes and not one single student sat near him the entire day. Apparently his mood was being broadcasted and even Daphne stayed away from him. It was only at the end of the day when Harry routinely made his way to the library that Daphne joined him.

"Hey Harry. So what's on the study agenda today? More research on Dark Magic?"

Harry didn't reply.

Daphne peeked into the book he was reading and was pleasantly surprised to see it was about the elements. The book next was about dangerous magical creatures.

"Got bored of Dark Arts did you?"

Harry ignored her.

"I've got an offer you're going to love and accept."

Daphne almost heard Harry's jaws grind against each other.

"Draco wants to challenge you to a duel!" she said quickly.

Harry went still and then slowly turned his head and looked into Daphne's eyes curiously. "What?"

"A duel."

"You mean a fight?" His heart beat in anticipation. _Was killing allowed in a duel?_

"Yes," Daphne said impatiently.

"Why?"

"I made a bet with him," she said quickly. She sensed the disinterest in his voice and had to rectify that quick! "I bet if he lost that we could go to his home and visit his library! It's full of rare books on dark arts and obscure magic! I guarantee you'll love it. What do you say, Harry? Help me wipe that smirk of Draco's face will you?"

She was almost pleading with him and Harry was oblivious to it. "It has books not here? Books on dark magic?"

"They can't be found anywhere else in the world!" Daphne exclaimed.

Harry shrugged. "Okay," he said and turned back to his book. Daphne didn't know it but the void was in debate inside Harry. If he was being challenged to a fight, would Dumbledore be upset if he killed the student challenging him?

Daphne on the other hand visibly looked relived. It would not look good for her if Harry had refused.

" _Never betray your true colours to anyone ever Daph. Not even your closest friends nor your lover. Secrets cannot be called secrets if more than one knows about it."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Turning back the clock**

"Quickly Quirrell!"

A weak, high pitched voice hissed as Professor Quirrell hurried through the corridors of Hogwarts with determined purpose. His Master's goal was almost within his reach.

He reached the third floor corridor and with a flick of his wand, he slammed open the door. There was no obstacle that Dumbledore could throw in his path that he couldn't get past.

The obstacle that stood in his way, however, was not what he expected. It was Dumbledore himself.

"Good evening Tom," said the most powerful wizard in the world. He was standing on a trap door; blocking Quirrell's way to what the Defence against the Dark Arts professor knew was the way to the Alchemist's stone.

"No!" Quirrell gasped. "How did you know? Forgive me Master!"

" _Run you fool! Run!"_

But there was nowhere to run. The door had shut silently and there was no escape unless he took down Dumbledore.

"I will not let you capture my Master," Quirrell hissed. "You will not win Dumble-!"

Quirrell suddenly gasped and lost his voice. Dumbledore had raised his wand and frozen the mad man.

"I will extract you Tom," Dumbledore boomed, "just like the venom from a snake. Surrender now and prevent yourself the pain of having your soul trapped for eternity."

A black mist began to rise from the back of Quirrell's head and the hapless professor began to twitch.

Dumbledore slashed his wand down and the mist halted in its track. An invisible force was pulling it towards Dumbledore.

" _You will not have me Dumbledore!"_

Suddenly the mist shot back into Quirrell and Dumbledore staggered back as if hit in the gut by a powerful punch.

Lord Voldemort accessed the magical core of Quirrell to greatly amplify his powers for a moment. They came a great cost but he had no choice.

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

With agility beyond his years, Dumbledore broke the connection his magic had with Quirrell and dove out of the way. He felt the hiss of foul dark magic speed past his ear and when he fell to the ground with a thump, Quirrell began to disintegrate. Dumbledore didn't notice the weak shimmer in the air that wavered towards the ceiling and disappeared.

He sprang to his feet, eyes sharp and searching but there was no trace of Voldemort. The dark lord had escaped his grasp once again.

"You will meet your end Tom," Dumbledore said softly, eyeing the dust that was once Quirrell sadly. "I can only hope to reduce the collateral until that day."

"Your end will come Tom. It will…. I swear it will!"


	7. The Duel

**The Duel**

"Fix it Draco. Fix it or be sure you win," Lucius Malfoy, Draco's influential father growled, his voice tight with disapproval. "People of Status are invited to the Ball. Not the fallen from grace and the pets of Dumbledore!"

Draco quivered in his boots. "But father…Daphne… she…!"

"This silly idea of yours is ridiculous! You know we have a contract with the Parkinson's! Grow up Draco!"

 _I'm eleven,"_ Draco thought with a scowl. _I'm not growing up yet!_ He thought stubbornly.

"If you cannot. I will be disappointed."

That said, the fiery head of Lucius Malfoy disappeared from the fireplace.

Draco paled at his father's last words. Would he be grounded for a month? Would his broom be confiscated? Would they not take him for their summer trip to the Island!? With each though his horror grew.

"Are you done Draco?"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin and turned around to face Professor Snape who was glaring down at him with glittering eyes.

"Yes," Draco said with a sigh, calming his beating heart.

He glanced at the exit of the dimly lit office which seemed to be filled with Snape's presence. The Potions Professor dominated the room and Draco found himself wanting to leave.

"You will need training if you hope to defeat Potter," Snape said simply.

Draco scowled harder. "Or I could just tell Daphne I never committed to a date and have the duel after Christmas!"

"Is that cowardice or cunning talking Draco," Snape said darkly.

Draco flushed. "I wasn't thinking straight when I made that bet. I mean, have you seen him Professor?! He's a creep and he gets this funny look on his face when he does magic! I don't want to fight that… that thing unless I have to!"

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Is that a lack of faith in my teaching ability or an overestimation of Potter's abilities?" Snape literally spat the word Potter.

"You're a terrible teacher Professor," Draco deadpanned.

Snape smirked. "Perhaps at Potions. You haven't seen me teach the Dark Arts yet."

Draco's eyes widened and his lips stretched from ear to ear involuntarily with glee. His father had never taught him any Dark Magic!

"When do we start?"

He couldn't wait to beat Potter and brag about it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **The Library**

Harry was enamoured by the book his nose was buried in. He had found it by accident in the restricted section while looking for books about magic that manipulated the elements of nature.

It was a small book compared to the massive Tome's in the restricted section and it detailed the adventures and horrors of Herpo the Foul. The man who had turned a part of a nation into a desert just because someone had said he smelled funny. The book said nothing about how Herpo accomplished this and instead focused on his rise as a Lord of the Dark, his creation of the King of Serpents and his invention of a vessel to carry a soul in a quest for Immortality until his eventual death under mysterious circumstances.

There were images of a lush green forest that was converted into an endless sea of sand and Harry tenderly ran his fingers over the image of the desert. It called out to him… whispered to the Void… beckoned him into its endless dunes and harsh nature. Harry wanted to experience the Desert. He wanted to stand in the middle of nowhere and feel the emptiness all around him. To survive in a desolate landscape in a place that the Void so deeply identified itself with. Desolate. Alone. Power. A King atop his Mountain.

"Hey Harry!" The voice cut into his fantasy and he jerked out it jarringly.

Harry scowled. It was Daphne. Why was she always there? Like a pest he couldn't swat away.

He shut the book and slipped it out of view. He didn't want her to see it. He felt connected to the book or rather just one page, with one picture. Everything else was meaningless.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Daphne and she ignored it. Her priorities lay elsewhere.

"Draco asked me to pass along a message. Tonight, in the Trophy Hall, at midnight."

Excitement bubbled in the Void. It longed to be free again.

"It's six now so we got time in case you want to prepare yourself or something. I'll be your second of course, but I doubt I'll be needed. Do you want to go over the rules of Duelling or…?"

Daphne was rambling. Harry could sense her unease and he dismissed it sparing no thoughts for it. His mind was conjuring images of a much more pleasing nature. How should he kill Draco? Should he cut off his head? Or suffocate him with the Void? Should he use spells? Harry had begun to dislike spells. They were too flashy. Too slow and required too many wand motions. It took time to cast a spell and Harry preferred magic be instantaneous. He was beginning to find waving his wand around annoying and when he got annoyed his got angry. And when he got angry the Void got violent, unstable. The Void wanted to be let out with a bang. Not carefully moulded and changed into spells with a purpose. The Void had no purpose.

"…of course we won't be killing or hurting each other too much," Daphne continued. "Just disarm him and we're golden."

Those words called a screeching halt to Harry's thoughts.

"What?" he hissed dangerously. "No killing?"

Daphne took a step back when she saw a flare of something in his green eyes; smouldering with upset. "What do you mean no killing?"

"Err... it's just a duel. And we don't know enough spells to kill." She laughed nervously and felt a dark aura oppress the air around her. Suddenly she felt like she didn't know Harry Potter at all. There was a rage, a madness in his eyes that made her want to turn and flee.

Daphne caged the fear she was suddenly feeling, took a step forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "Calm down," she said bravely, her body projecting understanding and acceptance. She didn't know this alien Harry but she knew she had to calm him, she knew it instinctively. "You can still beat the snot out of him. And remember. The reward is a free run of his family library! Imagine the books that we could find. The knowledge. The power!" she coaxed.

And to her relief the cold fire behind those beautiful green eyes simmered and disappeared. The antisocial bookworm re-emerged.

Harry looked at Daphne like he was looking at her for the first time. Truly looking at her. His eyes slowing roved all over her, from her legs to her torso, up her thin neck and finally into her eyes.

Daphne shivered subconsciously and looked away from those intense eyes. There was nothing perverted about the way Harry was looking her up and down. It was calculating. Judging. Weighing her worth. And when she looked back there was a small smile playing around his lips. It was weird. There was no humour in it. Was it acceptance? Daphne's heart soared.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 **Midnight**

"Now remember,' Daphne said warily. "No killing. Only disarming."

Harry didn't reply. The Void throbbed. Anticipating. Waiting. Pulsing.

Daphne was feeling like she was completely out of her depth here. Six hours ago. Harry Potter was a measuring stick she used against herself. He was her mysterious eccentric friend. And now, when she had tried to solve the mystery, she found a touch of insanity. She had seen it laid out bare and she truly realised. Harry Potter was not completely sane. He was tipping over the abyss and had yet to decide if he wanted to fall or be pulled back to the place where everyone else stood.

Daphne knew the death of her father and the loss of their family prestige and gold had forced her to grow up faster than most children. She felt like she was in a den with squabbling headless chicken and that is why she kept her friend circle small and tight. She tried befriending the older years but they shooed her along like some common eleven year old. In Harry she had seen a friend, her age, smarter than her, famous and uncaring of opinions.

After what she saw six hours ago, she was rethinking the pros and cons of that friendship and found that the pros outweighed the cons. All she had to do was keep his rage soothed.

"Well, well, well," a voice sneered into the silence of the trophy hall. "Looks like you showed up after all. Is your pet ready Daphne?"

Daphne glanced at Harry with alarm at the pet comment and found he looked like he hadn't even heard it. He was looking at Draco and the large Slytherin, Marcus Flint, she noted with a gulp, like they were prey. She glanced around and noticed all the gleaming trophies and plates that had been collected over the centuries. The floating candle lights reflected off the gold giving the room a very warm golden hue. It was a metaphoric warmth. The chill in the wind coming from the cracks was real and made her tighten her cloak around her.

"Prepare to get your arse handed to you Draco," Daphne said confidently.

Flint guffawed. "We been practising with Professor Snape, Greengrass. You best surrender now. We won't go easy on yea."

Daphne paled.

"Enough," a soft, velvet voice whipped. "Let us begin," said Harry.

"Finish this in one move Draco," Flint hissed maliciously.

Draco and Harry moved in front of each other, ten paces apart, Draco with wand in hand, Harry with empty palms. Draco was smirking, Harry was smiling. They bowed, Draco's eyes glittering, Harry's glowing.

"On the count of three," Daphne breathed.

"One…

"Two…

"Three!"

They rose, Draco's wands already sparking red. "Reduc…!" Draco was about to cry out the spell aiming at Harry when words died in his mouth when he looked into hellish green eyes.

A truly mad expression was on Harry. His eyes were wide and glowing, a huge smile on his face and he was giggling with his arms spread open, like he was inviting Draco for a hug.

Flint felt it before Draco did. A cold oppressive something coming from Harry Potter.

"Draco!" he shouted in alarm but it was too late.

Harry Potter brought his palms together and a shock-wave burst out. Flint raised a shield to protect him and Draco but it was of no use. He felt his body leaving solid ground and flying back, into one of the Trophy cabinets.

Glass and flesh met with a shattering crash.

Draco groaned, wondering what the hell had just happened. He picked himself of the floor, shaking of the shards of glass that were in his hair saw Flint do the same next to him. Flint's wand was held firm in his palm and his eyes were fixed on Harry. Draco followed Flint's gaze and felt fear.

Harry was walking towards them. He was still smiling. How? Draco wondered. How could something so small that looked so fragile possibly be this dangerous!

Flint raised his wand and Harry immediately in response thrust out his arms, palms facing out.

Draco felt something cold grasp his neck. He screamed in fear. It was spreading all over his skin like slime and his body was rising of the floor. It was tightening its grip around his neck and terror washed over him like a sudden downpour of rain. He tried screaming for help but his lips were sealed shut. His eyes bulged at the lack of air and his legs began to flail.

"Harry!" Daphne screeched but it fell on deaf ears. Harry was having the time of his life.

"HARRY POTTER!" boomed another voice. An ancient voice saturated with power and command.

Draco and Flint fell to the ground, at the feet of Albus Dumbledore, who looked beyond furious.

Harry let go of the void in disappointment and leashed it with remarkable control. He looked into the eyes of the headmaster, blue eyes behind which swam an endless pool of absolute power.

"They challenged me first," he said with a petulant scowl. He was having fun and the headmaster just had to come and ruin it!

"My office," thundered Dumbledore angrily. "Now!"


	8. The Revelation

**The Revelation**

Seven minutes later it was just Harry walking behind the tall form of Dumbledore.

After he had interrupted the Duel, Harry looked in fascination as threads of magic danced out of Dumbledore's wand, repairing the damage to the Hall with structured finesse and touching the minds of Daphne, Draco and Flint as well. He didn't know what the headmaster had done but it was interesting to see those threads of purple enter their minds through the middle of their forehead. After that, he had given them all detention with Argus Filch; the janitor of Hogwarts and dismissed them.

Harry wanted to see Dumbledore use his magic again. This was a man who was worthy of magic. He knew how to use it, how to command it and bend it to his will. Harry reached into the void and pushed it towards Dumbledore with curious intentions. He was surprised when the void parted before touching the old man and came back to him feeling confused.

"Control yourself Harry," Dumbledore chided. "My magic and will is too strong for you. If you poke, it will poke back. It will not be a pleasant experience."

Harry scowled and retreated into the void, embracing the emptiness, the peace.

He vaguely noticed they were in front of a pair of scary gargoyles who leaped aside as soon as Dumbledore neared them to reveal a spiralling staircase behind them.

"Come," Dumbledore said, his voice reaching Harry like a whisper.

Harry took a step onto the staircase and it starting moving with unbelievable smoothness. Harry stared with wide eyes at the magic powering the stairs. It was like a blue river, flowing steadily, without a ripple in its flow.

He was lead to a single door that looked as old as Dumbledore, except it looked like it had aged well and had a certain beauty about it. A golden doorknocker was in its centre which had the Hogwarts crest engraved into the knocker.

The door opened silently.

Harry walked in, his eyes wandering curiously.

The office was circular with a high dome ceiling that had curious patterns engraved in it. The walls were lined with shelf's that were cluttered with strangely shaped curios and mysterious books. Some were vibrating, others still. Above them were lined, side by side, portraits of men and women. Some were waving in welcome, others looking grumpy and some snoozing. The floor was covered with a thick red carpet and Harry could see the stone floor beneath the carpet in front of a fireplace opposite the door that was spitting fire and crackling merrily, casting a warm glow all over the office.

In the centre was a grand looking polished table that had a neat stack of parchment on one side, a lamp on the other and a crystal bowl containing strange yellow edible items. The headmaster's chair was a high back one with a comfortable cushioning running from the top to bottom. Opposite were three wooden chairs meant for visitors and students.

Harry wondered what the metal structure next to the chair was for. It had two legs, a single steel bar joining the two at the top and below was an oval steel bowl that looked like it had been exposed to too much fire. The bowl radiated magic like a sun rising behind mountains.

"Have a seat Harry."

Harry sat. His green eyes rose and met the calm blue eyes of the headmaster.

Dumbledore, picked the round thing from the crystal bowl and offered it to Harry. "Lemon drop?"

Harry stared.

Dumbledore smiled and popped it into his mouth.

"You were going to kill Mr Malfoy and Mr Flint weren't you?" he said without bothering to sugar coat the incident.

"You did something to their minds," Harry said softly instead. He was most curious about that magic. What was it? What did it accomplish?

"I changed their perception of the way you used your magic," Dumbledore said. "To them, you used your wand and defeated them with a well performed banishing charm. Well done Harry. Banishing charms are second year material."

Harry frowned. Was the headmaster covering up his use of the void? He didn't like to hide his abilities.

"I can read your mind Harry. What you call the void is mutated magic. How you accomplished this I do not know but I do have an idea."

"You said but," Harry replied. "By saying _but_ you negate the fact that you do not know and mean you know how I accomplished this."

Harry was a bit surprised with himself. Was he having a conversation with another human being? He had never done that before. It was quite refreshing. Especially since it was with a man who was worthy of magic. He was liking the feeling and he smiled.

Dumbledore was startled. The boy was unbalanced, he knew that. This, however, was a surprising bit of clarity and mental sharpness. Maybe there was hope after all. And then he felt the boy use what he called the void to mingle with the devices he had on his shelf's and his hope faltered when the boy giggled.

"What is that!?" he asked in fascination. "It feels like swimming in memories!"

"It is a pensive. An enchanted bowl a wizard uses to store his memories for perfect recall."

The pensive rose from the shelf and Dumbledore subtly used his wand to cut Harry's connection to it and let it float back to its place.

Harry scowled. Why was the headmaster so insistent on stopping his fun!

"I have been watching you Harry. Watching as you stumble in the world of magic. Watching your interest in the nature of magic grow. You might be fascinated by dark magic, powerful magic, elemental magic. But the truth is, the truth you haven't seen yet, is that you are obsessing over the truth of magic. What is it? Where did it come from? What is its potential? _Is there a source for it?_ "

There was passion in Dumbledore. And a bit of reminisce.

Harry was captured by Dumbledore's speech.

"You love magic. Do not let the horror of your past control your future. Open yourself to friends. Learn about human nature. Human nature is essential to magic. Your intentions can change magic. Power is not everything. Love is. If you let go of your hate and embrace love. You will find a greater power than you can possibly imagine."

Harry wondered what books he would find in the library the girl was talking about. He had lost Dumbledore with the mention of love.

"Your parents would not want to see you like this."

"My parents?" Harry said strangely. He had parents? How odd. Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon had never said much about them.

"Lily gave up her soul for you and James, his sanity. Do not let their sacrifice be in vain Harry. I can see the road you're travelling down. It will not lead to happiness."

Harry wondered what his parents looked like.

Dumbledore sighed. Perhaps it was not the time to introduce Harry to his parents. It would only damage his psyche even more than it was. He had no idea how to reach out to the boy.

The fact was he was a murderer. His magic was not normal. If the Department of Mysteries got wind of it, they would lock him up as a risk to society. There were three souls merged in the child. Lily's after her sacrifice, the fragment from Tom after his defeat and the boy's.

Three powerful souls combined to create what Harry called the void. A potential to surpass the most powerful of spells. Dumbledore feared what the boy would do with it as he grew up, in age and power.

The lightening scar no longer held a mutilated soul, he had sensed that the first time he met Harry after leaving him on Privet Drive. Dumbledore hypothesized the incident where he killed his relatives had been the trigger to absorb that evil soul. What he didn't know, and couldn't figure out was, if Voldemort's soul was influencing Harry's mind.

"Tell me Harry. Why do you avoid socialising with your housemates? Or even Ms Greengrass who has made such a marvellous effort to befriend you?"

For this Harry had an answer. "They are worthless," he hissed. "They treat magic like a toy. They don't know the potential, the power!"

Dread pooled in Dumbledore. This was not a good sign.

"They are children," he said calmly. He had to do something to deviate Harry from this derisive mind set. "Once you graduate from Hogwarts you will find careers where magic is revered and treated with the respect it is worth. You are eleven, not seventeen."

Harry didn't understand what age had to do with this.

Dumbledore sighed. "Now, for your punishment for illegal duelling and almost killing a fellow student, you are assigned detention with Hagrid until the end of term every Wednesday and Saturday."

"Who?"

"Hagrid. He is the gamekeeper. You will obey him and do ask he asks."

Harry stared. Obey? He giggled.

Dumbledore's magic flared. Dwarfing the void like an ocean to a pond.

"I will not warn you again. Control your magic or I will have no choice but to expel you."

Harry nodded with wide eyes.

"Now run along back to your common room," Dumbledore said tiredly.

Harry got up and turned away and left without a second glance. A full minute later, there was a shimmer in the air and Severus Snape removed the fabled cloak of invisibility masking his presence.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked.

"I was wrong to push Draco to duel him," Snape said simply. "That and the boy's mind is… well… not normal. I wouldn't call him insane… more of a sociopath."

"What did you see?"

"A desert," Snape said hesitantly. "And a desire…" he trailed off. "I couldn't make it out. There is a desire, an ambition in him which he is not yet aware of. It is the will of his magic or…?" Snape didn't understand it and he looked at Dumbledore helplessly. "The only thing I'm sure of is, exposing the boy to more magic will only make his desire more pronounced. The day he figures out what he wants is going to be the day we mourn."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Have you been smoking Severus?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Slytherin Common Room**

Daphne couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Do you intend to keep to your promise?"

Draco sneered, standing straight as an arrow, oozing arrogance and anger. "I am a Malfoy. We never betray our word. I expect you and Potter to be at Malfoy Manor at eight hours past noon on the twenty fourth of December."

Daphne folded her arms and smirked.

"Good night, Greengrass," he said bitterly and turned regally on his heel.

Daphne smiled to herself as she watched him disappear towards the boy's dormitories. "I'm close father. So very close," she whispered.


	9. The Christmas Ball

**The Christmas Ball**

She had been waiting for an opportunity for two years now. She was nine when her father died; she hadn't really understood the significance. She was ten when her heart turned to stone; family friends turned coat, her mother broken, sister sheltered and she, an outlet for her mother's anger. And by the time she was eleven, she desired payback for all she wished she never had to endure. Now she was running towards twelve and the chance of a lifetime was right before her; all thanks to a boy she had met in a bookstore.

The mirror reflected a pretty picture. A young golden hair girl with dark blue eyes wearing a light blue robe which her mother had bought her for her eleventh birthday. They were not grand like the robes she used to be gifted regularly when her father was alive. They were from Madam Malkin's, from their cheapest and prettiest collection.

She nervously smoothened the kinks around her waist and prayed everything would go as she planned.

"Watch over me dad," she whispered.

A moment later, her sad eyes hardened and she picked up the purse she had taken from her mother's cupboard without her permission. It was green with a silver strap. She slung in around her neck and patted the bag carefully. Inside it was her gift for the Malfoy's.

A gift that she had made herself; after three months of studying and practising with Harry Potter as her motivation and inspiration. If it weren't for him, she doubted she'd ever have the focused drive to do what she planned to do and succeed.

Daphne took a deep breath, straightened her back and walked out of her dorm, towards Professor Snape's office.

When she reached, Harry was already there, wearing his school robes and watching a portrait of a sea of serpents under a stormy sky with his mouth half open and eyes wide open.

"Harry," she said brightly with a tone of relief. She had been afraid he wouldn't turn up.

Harry turned to look at Daphne, acknowledged her presence and turned back to look at the hissing portrait.

Daphne frowned. Professor Snape had put that portrait next to his personal chambers with the purpose of reminding those who came to disturb him that he was liable to strike and his temper was always foul.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked carefully. She knew he didn't like being disturbed when he was absorbed in something.

"Yes," he said.

Daphne knocked on the door. It was ten minutes to eight after noon.

The door opened with a creak and Professor Snape glared down at the intruder.

"Professor," Daphne squeaked.

"Right on time Ms Greengrass," he said silkily. His expression turned dark however, when he noticed Harry beside her.

"May I ask what is Mr Potter doing with you?"

"He's coming with me Sir. We were both invited."

Snape frowned. "And with whose permission is he allowed to leave?"

Daphne was floored. Harry needed permission? Whose? His head of house?

"Err," she said eloquently. "I was unaware he needed permission Sir."

"This is a boarding school and Mr Potter's guardian is the headmaster. I'm afraid I cannot let him go with you."

Harry's eyes snapped towards Snape. "I want to see the library," he said with a frown. Why was this man standing in his way? He wondered.

"The library is not here Mr Potter," Snape said with a sneer. "Has your sense of direction been addled Mr Potter?"

"Please sir," Daphne interrupted hurriedly. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't mind. If you could be so kind as to floo and ask him, I'd be really grateful Professor."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Wait here," he growled and slammed the door shut.

"Harry!" Daphne hissed. "Why didn't you tell me you needed Dumbledore's permission!? Now everything could be ruined!"

Daphne's heart was racing. This was not happening. Her plan was not being shattered. Could she do it without Harry?! She was afraid of what she was about to do and her strength came from the boy beside her. Without him she couldn't do it! She needed him by her side!

The door opened and Daphne's felt her stomach drop when she saw it was Dumbledore himself.

His curious eyes and polite smile was enough to force Daphne's resolve to harden.

 _I won't let him screw this up! I'm late as it is!_

"Headmaster," she greeted. "I'm afraid I was not aware Harry needed your permission to leave the castle. I know the hour is late but I would deeply appreciate your acceptance of Harry and I going for Mr Malfoy's Christmas Party. It would look terrible if Harry and I didn't turn up after all our efforts to merit an invitation. I can imagine the gossip. Boy who Lived denied going for Christmas Party by Hogwarts headmaster!"

Daphne laughed humourlessly and was unconsciously rocking on the balls of her feet. Inside her head, she was panicking. She had no idea what compelled to say all that. Was she threatening the most powerful man in the World?!

Dumbledore blinked. Daphne had spoken fast enough for words to fly past his ear however he had understood what she was saying. Though he didn't understand why she was saying it. Was she attached to Harry so much that she didn't want to go without him? Or was there another reason?

Allowing Harry to go for this party was dangerous. The Men and Women there had unfavourable ideas about magic. On the other hand preventing Harry from going would make Harry dislike and distrust him when Albus wanted the opposite. If Harry had to go then he most definitely needed someone to keep an eye on him. Perhaps allowing him this would assist in getting the boy to open up to him. It was a gamble as he was running out of ideas.

"Of course Mr Potter can come along Ms Greengrass," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Although as Mr Potter's guardian and your headmaster I do insist on adult supervision and I'm sure Professor Snape would be happy to escort you both."

"What!?" hissed Snape in outrage.

"What!?" gasped Daphne.

"I most certainly will not Albus!"

Harry tuned out the bickering adults and looked at the portrait again. The snakes were absolutely fascinating. He had no idea they could talk.

 _"Look at these humansss,"_ they hissed in tandem. _"Loud, arrogant. Big, stupid. Noisy, smelly."_

Harry was about to ask them how a portrait could smell when his name was called.

"Are you coming along or not Mr Potter!" It was Snape and he was apoplectic with rage.

Harry shrugged and followed. The snakes were right. Humans talked too much and did little. Did that make him less human or more alien? He giggled at the thought and three sets of eyes looked at him strangely. They found nothing humorous about their situations.

"Have you ever used the floo Potter?"

Harry shook his head.

"Take this powder and toss it in the fire. Step inside and enunciate Malfoy Manor. Does your thick head comprehend that?"

Harry scowled. This man had a habit of talking nonsense. He hated nonsensical talks. It got in the way of productivity. He used the void to strike the man's hand and summon the bag of floo powder to him.

Snape gasped in pain and his eyes widened comically at the casual use of wandless magic. Magic, by all rights, that only the old and powerful were capable of!

Before Dumbledore could react, Harry looked at Dumbledore and said, "He's an adult." Which also meant he could do worse if provoked. That said he tossed a bit of powder in the fireplace, chucked the bag back at Snape and stepped into the fire that had flared green.

"Malfoy Manor," he enunciated in a clear and soft voice and disappeared with a whoosh leaving three dumbstruck people in Snape's personal chambers.

"Well," Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose we'll leave the detentions for later."

"Albus," Snape said, his voice still in shock.

Daphne was suppressing laughter. She knew Harry was capable of that when she met him at the bookstore in Diagon Alley. "Shall we go Professor?" she giggled. "We're already late."

Snape turned to Dumbledore with a thunderous expression.

Dumbledore looked at him pointedly. "Don't let him wander and keep him away from _him."_

"Fine," he snapped. "Fine! Get moving Grassgreen!"

"It's Greengrass."

"Whatever."

Severus could be such a child when he didn't want to do something he didn't like to do, Dumbledore mused as the pair disappeared into the floo network.

"This is either going to be a disaster or a grand success," he muttered worriedly. He was running out of ideas when it came to controlling and directing Harry Potter. For him to take make such a wager and allow Harry to enter the home of Lucius Malfoy spoke volumes of how worried he actually was.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Malfoy Manor**

They were all dressed in expensive robes, from the finest weavers in the magical world. Many custom made, few bought off the shelf. Cold unfriendly eyes swept through the exquisitely enchanted Manor, judging and sneering at those they deemed below them.

All eyes lingered on one boy in particular. He was small in stature; shortest and thinnest of all the eleven year olds in the room. To them, as deemed by society, he fitted the role of a nine year old. His hair was neatly folded to one side and his skin was of a pale disposition. Green eyes stood out and the faded scar on his forehead the focus of many.

They openly laughed and sneered at him, unable to believe the great Boy Who Lived had come for the party of the year dressed in his school uniform.

"Harry Potter!" gasped one of the few men who didn't look at Harry Potter with condescension but rather with shock and awe.

Harry was feeling queasy after that unholy trip through the floo network and now his blood was beginning to simmer. He had been besieged by men and women, dismissed as a child and directed to the kid's area where most of the Hogwarts children were playing a game of Quidditch, he was laughed at, insulted and Harry just didn't understand the purpose of it all.

He could see the nimbus of power inside them. A faint glow of gold that radiated from the base of their spines. Some were dim and some were bright. It was something he had begun to see not too long ago.

"Such an honour… such an honour!"

He was shaking Harry's hand vigorously. Harry would have slapped him aside with the Void if he wasn't so shocked by the action and had his brain rattled with the force with which his hands were being shook.

"You'll rip them out of his shoulders if you keeping doing that Bagman."

"Right of course of course. Where are my manners! I'm Ludo Bagman, Harry; once star beater of the Wasps and England; now commentator and legend! This here is our amazing host, Mr Lucius Malfoy."

Harry looked at the burly man who looked like his face had been bashed in one too many times and then at the tall man with long bleached blonde hair who was looking down at him with disdain. He wearing shimmering silver robes and holding a gold cane. Harry personally thought he looked ridiculous and kept the thoughts to himself.

"Welcome to my home Mr Potter. I must say I am surprised you chose to be here." He glanced to a corner of the room where a sallow man with greasy hair and dark robes was skulking and smirked, "Even if you have a minder with you who is clearly not very good at his job."

Another man joined them. He had lines of age around his cold blue eyes that were so light, they looked like they would shatter at the slightest touch. He was tall and had receding yellow hair that was classily combed backward. His skin was tanned and he was wearing a robe that looked suspiciously close to what you otherwise might call a tuxedo.

"Well… well… well…." He drawled much like Lucius Malfoy. "The Boy who Lived. Saviour to half of our world and pariah to the other. I'm surprised to see you off Dumbledore's leash little boy."

 _So much noise. So much chatter. Why are they wasting their potential?_ Harry didn't understand what the man was saying. His words sounded like the sounds of a mechanised grater. Harry turned to Lucius, his eyes narrowed.

"Where is the library?" he demanded.

As a child Harry's voice was not as high pitched as one would expect. It was almost grown up but not. It didn't quite have a lazy inflection but was leaning more towards that of a predator that was not hungry at the moment.

This was the first time the men around Harry had heard it and they wouldn't stop the shudder that raced down their spines. It was urging them to flee and not antagonize the boy before them.

Lucius was reminded of the first time he heard the Dark Lord speak.

"The library?!" Bagman laughed. "This is party kid! Get outside, play a couple of games of Quidditch! There's gobstones and," Bagman leaned down and whispered conspiratorially, "Butterbeer in the Peacock garden I hear."

Bagman laughed uproariously.

"What are you laughing about now Ludo," a feminine voice tittered. "Are you regaling us with your changing room stories?" she laughed.

"Ah, lovely Bianca. Not at all. I was just having a chat with Harry Potter is all."

"Oh my," she gasped. She was a blonde with a thin face with skin that looked like it had been stretched beyond its capability wearing golden frilly robes and white gloves complimented with diamond studded silver heels. "You know, I heard a rumour you were raised by Muggles!"

"Who are you talking with Bianca?"

Another woman turned up. This one dressed in green robes and was dark in complexion. Her black hair was neatly twirled above her head and her eyes were as dark as her hair.

"Harry Potter is here Tricia."

Tricia raised an elegantly manicured eyebrow.

"Did you know he was raised by muggles?"

"Really? That must have been awful. Living with those weak creatures." She laughed cruelly. "Muggles should be wiped out of existence don't you think so Mr Potter? It's a shame we are forced to hide." Her eyes glittered maliciously and Harry found himself agreeing with the lady.

He believed in survival of the fittest. He believed and wholeheartedly agreed with Darwin's theory of evolution; the concept of food chain and that only the strongest survive. It was why looking at all the weak witches and wizards blabber incoherently while being stuck in bubbles of grandiose delusions made him angry. Why didn't they appreciate magic instead of just talking about it and using it for pedestrian things like lighting candles, making brooms float; they used magic to make life easy instead of truly understanding the potential of having the power to do anything! It was pathetic!

"Ladies. Gentlemen." Lucius suddenly interrupted smoothly. "I believe this kind of talk is best left for after hours and not to be debated with eleven year old boys. Now let us retreat to the bar. I believe Minister Fudge doing his favourite enchantment."

"Oh wonderful."

"Let's get going then."

"See you around young Harry!"

Once the crowd that was formed around the boy left, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a dangerous look in Harry's eye. He had been around one dark lord long enough to recognize the desire to slaughter those that were irritating him. He had been alarmed when he found himself recognizing that look in Harry Potter. The boy was dangerous. What had Draco been thinking when he challenged the boy for a duel?!

"Severus!" Lucius called.

The potions professor glared and then glided over. "What?"

"Do you mind escorting Harry Potter to our library? I believe that is the sole reason he is here." If the boy found his abstract library interesting then it would prove Dumbledore's golden boy was not so golden after all.

Snape wanted to say something.

Lucius gave him a pointed look.

"Fine!" he snapped. "Come on Potter!"

Lucius smirked. Snape was always very good at being a pawn. If you tore away the scary professor routine all that remained was a nerd who lacked purpose. Anyone who could give him a direction would own the man. Sadly, it was Dumbledore who held the strings now. It was a shame. Lucius always thought Snape had a great potential of being an enforcer in a squad of the Knights of Walpurgis.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Daphne spent the first 20 minutes after her arrival meeting and greeting her classmates. After the pleasantries were done with she headed towards the beautifully decorated Christmas tree and carefully opened her bag to place her gifts for the Malfoy's under the already overflowing with gifts Christmas tree. One had her name on it and was a book on household charms and the other was a small thing, a cylindrical shaped gift without any name on it. It was nothing the extensive wards around the Manor would detect as dangerous. Only Daphne knew its true nature and prayed it lived up to the expectations.

It had taken her exactly 52 days to get it done correctly. She had had Owls deliver muggle magazines, she had studying far more than she thought herself capable of with Harry. She had experimented with painstaking caution and patience until she made her tool of revenge. She really had to thank Tracey for introducing her to all those strange comics she obsessed over. Unknowingly, they had given her a solution and Harry had given her the path.

Daphne took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stood up. Her heart had not stopped beating at twice its speed ever since she had entered the Manor.

Now, it was all up to fate.

"Do you want to dance?"

Daphne almost jumped out of her skin. It was one of the boys from France. Some distant relative of the Maloy's.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Max," he said.

"Well forgive me Max. I don't want to dance," she said and literally ran away. She didn't know what to do now. Did she stay for a while so that suspicion would not come on her or did she take Harry and leave?

Speaking of which. Where was he? She wanted to get out of this hell as soon as she could. Each time she saw those purebloods, terrible memories assaulted her like they had just happened yesterday.

When she met the eyes of Avery, she remembered him laughing in the courtroom as her mother lost their ancestral home.

Nott Senior, Theodore's grandfather, had brought more traumatic memories. She could almost feel his hands crawling up her legs, attempting to slide between them while in front of her, her mother begged the goblins grant her a loan. She supressed a sob and blinked back the tears. That man was truly horrible. She had been only ten! The bastard! She wanted to kill them all! She'd make them pay. She'd make them remember the name Greengrass!

She looked around, desperately looking for Harry and noticed him being led into the house by Snape. "Har-" she started in relief but was interrupted by Draco.

"Liking the Ball?" he asked lazily; he was wearing expensive silver robes like his father.

"Oh yes. It's lovely," Daphne said gesturing at the hall, supressing her gag reflex and ruthlessly killing her trip down the road to hell. The Hall was tackily done. There was lots of gold goblets, silver plates, red carpets, brightly enchanted chandeliers, and a band playing mournful music. It was all so ridiculous that she wanted to gouge her eyes out. All the thieving purebloods were wearing expensive shit that was vomited from the empty pool of imagination of high society tailors. "I especially loved the snow from the ceiling. It's marvellous how they disappear before touching anything six feet off the floor. Was it your mothers work?"

"Yes," he said proudly. "She won an award last year. Say, do you know where Potter is? Neville wanted to meet him."

"I saw him going to the Garden," she lied.

"Well come on. Let's go find him."

"I'll join you in sometime. I need to use the restroom."

Draco nodded and quickly left. He found an unusual friend in Neville even though the boy was in Gryffindor. And being around Draco had given Neville something he had never thought he possessed. Confidence.

Daphne turned heel and hurried after Snape. She followed the sounds of footsteps once she had left the hall and gone up the impressive staircase and saw a blur move into one of the rooms to the left. She hurried and walked into a cosy room with an unlit fire place that was lit with candles. there were four comfortable lounge chairs and a book shelf against the wall where Harry's eyes were glued.

"Hey Harry," she said with false cheer.

Harry ignored her.

"Have you finished browsing? Is it time for us to leave?"

"Half an hour Ms Greengrass," Snape said darkly. "Then we leave whether you like it or not."

"Yes Professor," she said automatically.

Snape glided, his robes flaring behind him like a bats wings.

"Well," Daphne said smiling brightly. "Did you find anything interesting?"

Harry didn't answer. He was enamoured by the titles. Magik – A history in its evolution. Moste Potente Potions. Divinity and Runes – Harnessing Magic. Goblin Wars. Wizengamot Laws.

The list went on and Harry finally zeroed on Divinity and Runes. Harnessing magic certainly fit with his views on Magic. He was beginning to like Lucius Malfoy.

He removed the book and put it on the table. Next he went for Manipulating Nature with Magic. After that he greedily added Beasts Unnatural.

They were all heavy leather bound books whose pages were yellowed and ancient.

"Do you plan on reading those now?" Daphne asked incredulously. "We have to leave in half an hour!"

Harry settled down in one of the chairs, carefully placed Divinity and Runes on the table and opened the book like it were a treasure beyond imagination.

Daphne huffed. She was filled with anxiety and here Harry was acting so relaxed! She really wanted to strangle him and wished he understood her unease. Unfortunately the boy was as thick as Crabbe and Goyle when it came to reading other people's emotions. He was a little crazy after all. Daphne wondered what could happened to make him this way. Was it because of his scar? Was his incredible talent for wandless magic a result of that too? Her thoughts wandered thanks to her frayed nerves.

Five minutes later Harry closed the book with a scowl.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I can't understand it."

Daphne went next to him and leaned forward to open the book. It was about complex runes and their networking to create physical constructs. The images and words flew over her head too.

"This is highly complex!" she said. "You need to study the basics of runes first. Then move on to the theory of linking runes to understand how to make a runic structure. Then you need to study the combinations of circles, pentagons, hexagons and more before you can hope to understand this!"

Harry's scowl deepened. That sounded like a lot of work.

"Ms Greengrass is correct."

Daphne's head snapped up and she felt her neck crack. Her head buzzed with the shock of it and she saw Lucius bloody Malfoy standing at the door.

"I must say Mr Potter. You are nothing like what I imagined you to be." His voice was silky and strong. There was power and status in it.

"Aren't you missing the party Mr Malfoy?" Daphne said politely. Out of all the purebloods, Lucius was the one she hated the most. He had led the charge against her father. He was the prime suspect in his suspicious death. He had carved out the largest piece of their estates and gold. He had orchestrated their family name's demise and no one could prove he did it on purpose.

To the world it only seemed fair that Lucius got the properties as he was entitled to it.

Daphne couldn't wait for him to open her gift.

Harry stared at Lucius. He had power. It was a ball of yellow light bigger than those in the hall below. He spoke with an air of being all knowing and his eyes bore into his as if they were reading his thoughts.

"I like your books," Harry said finally.

"I'm glad," said Lucius. "I don't allow even Draco to touch them however he made a bet on the pride of our name." Here he glanced at Daphne and smirked.

Daphne's neck turned red with rage. How dare he!

"Do you understand them?"

"I will," Harry said and that was the end of it. He had made up his mind to understand them and he would. "May I take them?" he asked.

Lucius laughed. "These are priceless books Mr Potter. I have spent years acquiring them. Why should I give them to you?"

"Knowledge is power," Harry replied simply.

"Indeed it is," Lucius said thoughtfully. "I'll tell you what Mr Potter. I will let you have a copy of one book if you promise to visit us this summer vacation."

Harry frowned. "Stay here?" What about Janus? Did the headmaster expect him to go there?

"And I assure you, you won't have to go back to your Juvenile prison. All you have to do is accept."

It didn't bother Harry that Lucius Malfoy somehow knew of his past. He was rather proud of killing his Aunt and Uncle after all.

Daphne, on the other hand, felt her eyes go wide. Prison? Harry was in a juvenile prison?! Merlin's hairy balls!

"Well?" Lucius prompted.

"Ok," Harry replied with a shrug.

Now Daphne's jaws dropped. Had Harry just accepted an invitation for Lucius bloody Malfoy of all people?! Did he even know who this man was? It doesn't matter, she told herself, mentally urging herself to calm down. In a few hours nothing that Malfoy said would matter.

Half an hour had passed and Professor Snape promptly returned. "It's time to leave," he said dourly.

"Very well," Lucius said with a smile. He looked very pleased. "It was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance Mr Potter." He stuck out his hand expecting Harry to shake it.

Harry just looked at the hand strangely and instead held up the book he wanted. "I want a copy of this one," he said.

Lucius slowly lowered his arm and felt a tiny bit angry at the snub. "Of course." He drew his wand, cleverly concealed in his cane and lazily swished at the book.

Harry observed the magic cohesing around the book and taking shape on the table to form an exact copy. He memorised the movement of the magic to practise later.

Snape curiously glanced at the book and then sneered. "Divinity and Runes? Is your thick head capable of understanding such complexity Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said throwing Snape off balance.

"I hope to be seeing you soon Mr Potter," Lucius said softly as Snape impatiently beckoned Harry and Daphne to follow him. "Real soon," he whispered.

 _No you won't,_ thought Daphne darkly. She tried not to think of the collateral of her plan. It wouldn't do good to start getting cold feet now. Not when all the pieces were in place.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Slytherin Common Room**

Daphne couldn't sleep. Her mind was in turmoil. Has she down the right thing? How many were going to die? Where they all going to be there? Was she going to murder her schoolmates as well? If all went well, she was going to be a murderer. Did they deserve to die?

 _They deserve it!_

She yelled in her mind and stared at the fireplace with anguish. She was alone in the common room. All the Slytherins were home and half of them were at the party.

How many were going to die? Were they all deserving of death?

Tears bloated in Daphne's eyes as she remembered all the horrible things that had happened to her when her father died.

 _They all deserve it!_

 _Did they? What if those who deserve it escape?_

 _I'll find a way to kill them too!_

Her subconscious laughed cruelly. _You're going to be a_ _murderer,_ it hissed at her.

Daphne sobbed.

* * *

Miles away Narcissa Malfoy picked up a cylindrical gift with no name.

"Daphne's gift was so lame!" scoffed Draco while he examined the training snitch Uncle Samuel had gifted him.

"It was sweet of her to get one," Narcissa said demurely.

Family and friends were gathered in what was now the living room. The Elves had cleared up and transformed the Hall back to its usual appearance.

The fireplace crackled merrily and an atmosphere of warmth and happiness laid over them all like a soft blanket.

Lucius was seated on the couch with both the Nott's and Parkinson deep in discussions about rejecting the latest Muggle Born rights law and scheming to make their lives harder.

Marcus Flint was in deep discussion with Montage and Pucey about the lastest state of Quidditch affairs.

The wives were seated at the dining table, giggling and gossiping about the Party.

There were children laughing and running around the Christmas tree, imitating the Hogwarts train.

"I propose we bring back the celebration of Walpurgis Night," said Nott Senior. He was the oldest of the lot and his long and thin white hair that was almost gone clung to his neck.

"The festival has been long forgotten," Parkinson; a tall fair man with dark curly hair and dark eyes said bitterly. "I remember a time when Christmas wasn't the most widely celebrated festival of our world!"

"Indeed," Lucius said dryly. "We are but a minority in our world now. Protecting our values and customs hold lesser importance over the rights of mudbloods and traitors." Lucius coughed. The cold had made his throat sore.

"Get some water for your father will you Draco?" Nott junior; Theodore's father said with a smile.

"But that's what the house elves are for!" Draco protested.

"I'm sure your father would appreciate it more if his darling son did this most difficult task for him," Narcissa said with a smile as she opened the unnamed gift carefully. She loved collecting the wrapping paper. She had devoted an entire room to decorating the walls with enchanted papers.

Many laughed and Draco scowled, feeling put out. "Fine," he snapped and went running to the kitchen.

The last thing he heard was a sizzling sound come from the living room and then a loud pop before his world turned dark.

A rumbling sound woke him up sometime later and he groaned when he felt pain blossom all over his body. "Wha happn'd," he moaned and tried to move. Rocks rolled off his back and he realised he was face down in one of the bushes.

The rumbling sound got louder.

"Dad?" he mumbled and blinked rapidly as he shakily stood up. His vision was blurred and his leg hurt.

Slowly his vision cleared and he saw the nightmare that had descended without warning. He was outside the manor and fire was rolling out of the bottom of the Manor like black towers of hell. Stones were laying all around him, bushes burning and there was a hole where there should have been a wall.

Terror caught his heart and he forgot how to breathe. "Mum? Dad?" he whispered in horror.

"Mum! DAD!"

Strength returned to his legs and he tried to run into the house but the heat of the fire and the roar of its fury dissuaded him.

Dark smoke blotted out the moon and hope along with it.

MUM! DAD!"

Draco was screaming hysterically when the full force of reality dosed him with fire.


	10. The Nature of the Void

**The Nature of the Void**

 **Seventh January Nineteen Ninety Two**

 _"– As the investigation into the explosion at Malfoy Manor continue, Aurors say they have found a breakthrough in their investigations._

 _A source within the department says the explosion was not an accident and that an improvised **muggle**_ _device was used to cause this most heinous act of terrorism._

 _Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE was unavailable for comment although the source within the department did confirm the prime suspect is a Muggleborn._

 _The healers have finally released the list the deceased which can be found in the special edition of the Daily Prophet being covered by special correspondent Rita Skeeter._

 _Daily Prophet special correspondent Emily Bones was able to get a few words from Draco Malfoy, one of the survivors who had this to say –_

 _"–Those responsible for this will not get away! This was clearly an attack on my Father who survived. We will have our revenge. Mark my words!"_

 _"–As you heard Lucius Malfoy is one of the survivors although it is unclear if he was intended to be the target as many prominent purebloods have fallen to this terrible attack._

 _No group has formerly taken credit for this attack and we hope the Aurors will be able to find those responsible and bring them to justice._

 _This is Radio correspondent Patricia Potter signing out."_

"Blimey!"

Ronald Weasley's reaction seemed to sum it up.

The tragedy at Malfoy Manor was all everyone could talk about. Hogwarts had reopened and their only source of information was the radio. Nobody had the patience to read newspapers except for nerds. At least, that was the idea in house of Gryffindor.

"There is going to be backlash for this," Cho Chang said worriedly.

In the house of Ravenclaw, almost everyone was surrounding the Daily Prophet devouring Rita Skeeter's article.

Everyone except Harry Potter - who was curled up in one of the many niches of the common room. The Ravenclaw common room was unique in the fashion that instead of chairs and sofas, the walls had numerous niches made comfortable with pillows and light that seemed to be radiating from the wall itself. It was their study bunk in the room and was rarely seen empty.

The common area had only a thick, furry soft blue carpet on which students were sitting or lying down on with their noses deep in the Daily Prophet.

"Do you think purebloods are going to target the muggleborns now?" asked Penelope Clearwater with a bit of fear as she was one of them.

There were already rumours of clashes in Diagon Alley. Groups of pureblood youths targeting half-bloods and mud-bloods.

"We have to stick together," said Roger Davies, his voice clear and commanding. All the Raven's looked up to him as a leader. He smoothened out the pages of the Prophet and continued to read the explosive article.

 _–Brace yourselves reader. It was a homemade muggle device! Yes you heard right. An enchanted muggle made bomb (muggle expert Devon Smith speculates it's what is called a pipe bomb). This brings to fore a number of terrifying questions. Have the muggles discovered us and are working with enemies of the Ministry? Are the witch burnings of the sixteen hundreds about to return? Was this a strike by the muggleborn community upset with the lack of progress on the Muggle born rights bill!? Or was it an insidious plot by a dark wizard!_

 _Whatever be the truth. The fact remains, it was a muggle bomb which, in cold blood, killed our beloved members of Wizengamot and we can deduce it was someone with knowledge about MUGGLES._

 _Keep an eye out for more from your favourite correspondent Rita Skeeter in the coming weeks!_

"This is going to be bad," summed up Roger Davies.

Sitting in the niche, with a book in his lap and a stack of more books on runes stuffed beside him, Harry Potter remained oblivious to the alarming chain of events happening in Magical England.

In the house of Hufflepuff, everyone surrounded Head Girl Tonks as she read from her position on the big bean bag, about the latest news on the attacks on Malfoy Manor.

"Francis Nott Senior, Gregory Nott Junior, Narcissa Malfoy, Marcus Flint, Bianca Parkinson and Jeffery Goyle have been confirmed dead and there are still seven others in critical condition but they might pull through.

Lord of the Wizengamot; Lucius Malfoy is confirmed to be alive but in an unstable condition."

Tonks looked up, her hair changing colour from yellow to brown. Her loyal Hufflepuffs looked at her; all seated cross-legged around her with the worry plain in their eyes.

"What shall we do Head Girl Tonks?" asked fourth year Cedric Diggory.

"Be loyal, stay away from conflict and crush those who pick on us," Tonks said firmly. "We will do what we always do. Protect each other!" Tonks smiled warmly inspiring her fellow Puffs to do the same.

The common room of Slytherin was the only house where all the students were gathered in the common room, not saying a word and not bothering to hear the news or read it.

Draco, Theodore and Pansy hadn't returned at the start of term. Flint's death and the death of other upstanding members of society was being mourned. Daphne Greengrass sat among them pretending to care while guilt ate her away from the inside. When she heard the news the morning after, she was incredibly happy, she had laughed with joy, screamed into her pillow with happiness at the success of her revenge but then the reactions that followed after the news and the student body's horror at the event turned her joy into guilt.

Her joy turned to doubt and then she began to feel guilt for the terror she had sown into the hearts of the wizarding world. She was beginning to fully understand the consequences of her actions.

Tracey held Daphne's hand comfortingly, misunderstanding her fallen expression for sadness. "I understand you're upset Daphne," she said softly. But don't let depression haunt you. If you need someone to talk, you know I'm here right?"

Someone to talk to… Daphne's mind strayed to Harry.

"Are you listening Daphne?"

"Thanks Tracey," she said dully. "I'll be fine. I'm just," Daphne struggled with words, "I'm just finding it difficult to absorb all that has happened," she said carefully.

"Just talk about it," Tracey urged. "Let it out."

Daphne smiled feebly. Tracey was right. She did want to confess. She did want to scream and tell someone what she did and how she was feeling. But who would listen and not betray her secret?

She suddenly stood up with a start, surprised Tracey.

"I gotta go," she said abruptly and hurried out of the common room. The name was always there in her mind. Depression had fogged it and now it was like the mist had cleared and she saw the name.

 _Harry_.

If there was anyone she could _hope_ won't betray her secret. It was Harry.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Azkaban**

Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge sat wearily in the holding cell where prisoners were brought one after the other to be interrogated.

"This is pointless Dumbledore," Fudge said tiredly. Being around the Dementors was bad enough and talking with insane inmates was even worse.

"It has to be done Cornelius," Dumbledore sighed.

"But why I do I have to be here!"

"The public needs to know you care Minister," Amelia Bones snapped. "Now be quiet. This is the last prisoner to be interrogated. Bring him in Warden."

The metal doors to the dark and cold room creaked open and a short thin man, with almost no hair was shoved in. He was snivelling and sobbing and was pathetic in general. The Dementors had done a real number on him.

Dumbledore stared at the man with no pity. He was the lynch pin that triggered events of unspeakable horrors.

"Have a seat Mr Pettigrew."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Ninth January Nineteen Ninety Two. The Library: Restricted Section.**

The castle was buzzing. The noise was so persistent and chaotic that it forced Harry to find the deepest darkest parts of the castle in the search of quiet.

The restricted section was one such place where the void sang and the grating noise of people remained absent. Harry spread the void all around him, stretching as far was it could go, feeling, tasting and absorbing the ancient magic of the library. He could feel the thousand minds that walked these mysterious long alleys of books that have been imparting knowledge of magic through generation after generation of children who became men and monsters.

Harry Potter closed his eyes and breathed it all in. He was beginning to understand. Understand the nature of the void. He could feel it now; that he had never felt before. It's sentience. It's potential to allow vessels to harness and understand the mysteries of magic. The Void was part of him. A piece of magic that reached out and tried to go back to its source every time he summoned it.

Dumbledore's words whispered through his conscious.

 _To find the source of magic._

Harry wondered if the answer lay in the books before him. Words of magic. Pronounced to summon and change its form as commanded. Magic was akin to language and Harry wondered if like a language, words of magic had meaning. And if the meaning transformed into what muggles would call miracles. If so, then how many words could be there? Could those words be made into sentences? Paragraphs? Stories?! The possibilities where endless and his limit was only his imagination.

Two students walked past him, giggling and fondling each other as they went past him. Students unaware and uninterested in the wonders of this library and magic.

A deep desire of anger made him want to use magic and teach those pitiful wizards and witches what one could do with magic. Show them power so terrifying that they bowed and begged for forgiveness for using magic like spoilt babies who only attempted to talk and succeeded only in crying. It was pathetic.

Harry traced the letters of advanced runes delicately with his fingers as he studied about structuring runes into complex formations in order to mould magic into intentions that translated into specific forms of magic. To make a broom float, for example. To change colours of a robe or expand the bottom of a trunk. The books all mentioned runes were being forgotten and left behind was because spells and wands had been invented.

No one had the patience to speak the language of magic anymore. They only wanted it translated for them and communicated to others without bothering to understand what was being said.

The void began to simmer.

 _They need to learn. Will we teach them? Survival of the fittest._

Strange dreams began to take shape in his mind. Images of the past. The desert. Solitude. The struggle to survive. It all began to warp and create an idea that was not yet clear to Harry.

"I knew I'd find you here," a sweet and strong voice penetrated the fog that was his mind and green eyes snapped open.

"Daphne," Harry said strangely. Sort of acknowledging her presence and wanting her to go away at the same time. She had a habit of lifting a veil before eyes and bringing him back to reality.

He had a habit of getting lost in the void.

"Hey Harry."

She sounded odd. The void reached out and felt sadness and pain. It was revolting.

"What did you do?" he asked with a frown and a twitch of his lips that Daphne interpreted to be a grimace.

"What do you mean?" she squeaked. How the hell did he know?!

Harry gestured at her vaguely and looked her up and down like he was looking inside her and was disgusted by what he saw. He looked away and into his book losing interest in her.

Daphne's heart was pounding. "I…," she hesitated. Once again asking if she was doing the right thing. Could she really trust Harry? The urge to confess her sin was too much.

Harry turned a page.

"I," she began more strongly. "I killed a lot of people," she burst. "Bad men and women. Some, innocent but mostly bad." She was trying to convince herself that all of them were evil to ease her guilt. "They hurt me so I killed them. I keep waiting for someone to tell me it's not my fault. I was forced to do this because of them! I didn't want to do this!"

Harry frowned. "But you did do it," he said feeling a bit confused. "Aren't you proud?"

"I… I should be," she said miserably.

Harry looked up. Suddenly his eyes went wide and there was a grin on his face. He almost looked delighted.

He understood what she had done. Her core was beginning to make sense now. He looked past the muck of depressing emotions and found those he valued: Revenge, death, power.

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't know why, but I feel so terrible. I know it was revenge for what those people did to my family! I made them pay but it doesn't feel good. I only feel guilty. I feel so damn guilty!"

"Only the strong survive," Harry said, his voice soft and clear. "The weak are erased by the strong." Harry looked her in the eye and asked, "Are you weak or are you strong?"

Daphne's heart wavered. And then with a will born from hardship, she tried to break free of her depression. She straightened her back and summoned her confidence. "I am strong," she whispered. "I am."

"We will see," smirked Harry. Magic was the true judge.

Wallowing in her guilt and self-pity, Daphne never got a chance to ask Harry about being in prison. It would be long before she could get a chance to ask again because Professor Snape showed up out of the blue and stared down at them, his black eyes glittering coldly.

"Professor Snape!" Daphne gasped.

"Ms Greengrass, Mr Potter. You two are ten minutes late for detention," he said. He was not pleased.

Daphne looked down at her watch and winced. It had stopped working two hours ago if it was nine at night already. "Sorry professor. I was looking for Harry to remind him as well," she said lamely.

"You found him. Now move."

Daphne stood up half-heartedly. She sighed internally at the thought of being at Filch's mercy, and that too alone now that she had blown up Flint and Draco was in mourning. At least she was better off than Harry who had to do god only knew what with Hagrid the gamekeeper in the Forbidden forest!

"You too Mr Potter. Or do I have to drag you along?"

Harry stood up and gave Snape a blank stare. He had retreated to into the Void.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Forbidden Forest**

While Daphne was subjected to sorting through Filch's doom box of confiscated items, Harry was being introduced to the Forbidden Forest.

"Alright there Harry?!"

Harry was fascinated by the way magic flowed through Flobberworms.

"'arry?"

It moved through them incredibly slow. With every bite of cabbage leaves, magic was pulled through their boneless bodies like a banana shake through a straw. Only slower and thicker. It was a dull yellow colour and a bit of it stayed stationary in the centre of the worm as if in a sack.

Harry was squatting at poking the worms with his pinky. He was trying to replicate the dull yellow colour with the void and wondered what would happen if he sped up their process.

"You okay there Harry?" Hagrid was looking at Harry bemused. They were in a clearing a few hundred meters into the forest where he bred the Flobberworms for Snape.

It was a full moon night and the howls of wolves and occasional croak of toads permeated what was otherwise a beautiful night with clear skies bathed in moonlight.

Suddenly the worm Harry was poking at exploded with a pop and Harry fell back on his ass his eyes wide with surprise.

Hagrid hurried over to Harry alarmed. "Wha' happened?"

"Too much yellow," Harry giggled. He wiped the pale white goo off his face with his sleeve and slowly stood up. There was an ancient magic that moved through the trees. It rose from the ground and flew with the whistling breeze. It had no colour but Harry could feel its weight. It was different from the library. Almost like a different dialect.

Hagrid laughed uncertainly. "Well be careful yea? Professor Snape ain't gonna be pleased if his Flobberworms are not of the right fatness. Feed them one quarter piece of cabbage leaf at a time. Let em' finish it whole and wait for fifteen seconds before you feed them the next. The process has to continue for two hours."

"Why?" Harry couldn't help but wonder.

"Something to do with the moon and magic I reckon," Hagrid said with a shrug. "Now come'n. We can't be wastin' time."

Harry ignored the giant man. He wanted to go deeper into the forest. He could smell the powers that lay hidden within its depths. He started walking.

"Hey! Where you goin?!" Hagrid rushed over to Harry and grabbed him with a thick palm and dragged him back.

Harry hated being touched. He lashed out with the Void, an expression of hate on his face and fury in his eyes.

He saw the Void scream out of his palm's with the triple the force he had used on the boys in school and watched it wash over the giant like nothing had ever happened.

Harry's expression changed comically to shock.

"What are ye' so angry about?" Hagrid said, completely clueless as to what had just transpired.

"N-nothing." Harry's eyes were wide and his mind was wrapping itself around the fact that the giant was unaffected by the void. He was so shocked that he didn't even protest when he was forcefully led back to the Worms.

Harry calmed his mind and pulled at the Void as deeply as he could. He directed it all at the giant with the intent to carry him and throw him into the forest but he could only blink in shock as the void failed to get a hold of him. Magic slid off his skin like soap on marble. It was a truly amazing thing to watch.

His interest in the giant grew tenfold. What other creatures were there in the magical world that could shrug off the void like a giant? Harry turned toward the dark depths of the forest and his green eyes glowed like those of a predator. Suddenly his interest in magical creatures rose like a boiling geyser of curiosity.

"What kind of creatures are there in the forest Mr Hagrid?" Harry asked. He was beginning to like the giant. Anyone who was strong had Harry's respect and the giant was clearly strong. Much stronger than him.

For now.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Weeks rolled into months and soon the end of the year was upon them. The days had rumbled on and Harry was reminded of his routine life at Janus. There was an air of tension and desire for things to continue the way they were after the news that had the entire castle in uproar.

Daphne continued to bother him and he vaguely noticed her, being completely entrapped by runes and the books on magical creatures that his new friend Hagrid had loaned him.

With Dumbledore's permission Harry was allowed to explore parts of the forest. The headmaster was oddly pleased that Harry was talking, actually talking and asking questions, engaging in idle conversation with Hagrid.

The end of year feast was upon them and Harry sat at the corner of the house table, eating by himself, carefully cutting his pork into tiny little pieces before consuming them whole. There was a two seat gap beside him and three seats in front of him before his other housemates took up seats. The headmaster made some speech and the colours above the hall turned green and silver.

That night Harry slept peacefully before the day to leave school arrived. Harry was not interested in going back to Janus. He wanted to explore. He wanted to experience what his books romanticised. The Desert came to his mind.

After he found himself a compartment in the train, he was joined by Daphne just before the train began to move out.

He blinked when he saw her. Something had changed. The muck that was confusing her core was gone. It was an angry red now. The colour of hate.

Harry smiled at her approvingly and his eyes met her cold blue ones that were burning with a fire that Harry liked. Harry was glad it was back. He had the strangest feeling when he thought back at the time it had gone. It was right after she had mentioned something about killing some people she hated.

His eyes travelled down to her hand to the newspaper being crushed in her fist.

Daphne threw the paper and sat down with a growl of rage.

Harry giggled and his eyes drifted to the paper that was slowly uncurling itself.

There was a somewhat familiar face on the front page although he could not place it.

In a compartment not far from them Hermione Granger sat with people she supposed she could call friends.

"He looks so hideous," Parvati breathed dramatically.

"Creepy," agreed Ron Weasley, stuffing his face with chocolate frogs.

Opposite him Neville looked at the newspaper sadly. He hoped Draco would be alright. He had been devastated to learn Draco had been pulled out of school and transferred to Drumstrang.

Lucius Malfoy adorned the front page of the Daily Prophet and boy did he look scary.

His long hair was gone. It was now closely cropped to his head and showed no signs of reverting to its smooth and silky properties. There was an ugly burn just below his ear, extending down the left of his neck and disappearing into his robes. He was sitting in a wheelchair and thanks to the moving qualities of a magical photo the lack of legs was easily noticeable under the black robes.

Lucius Malfoy had survived but not without paying a high price.

Neville read the article again.

 _"I believe this was an attempt on the Minister for Magic."_

It was the first interview Lucius Malfoy had agreed to after his near death. He had survived because of his quick and silent conjuration of a shield has soon as he noticed the flare of fire from the Christmas tree. His instinct had saved his life.

 _"What makes you say that Lord Malfoy?"_

The article was another exclusive by Rita Skeeter.

 _"I believe it was an attempt by the Werewolf community in retaliation to the Werewolf rights bill that I helped reject in the Wizengamot. As you know, my family and other upstanding purebloods who perished in the cowardly attack on my home and family have been working very hard to bring back the culture of our ancestors that is being forgotten because of the sudden influx of muggle born graduates in our community._

 _"Are you certain?_

 _"The timing of the attack is too coincidental. And I'm sure you're aware, werewolves have a great presence in the muggle world as well._

 _"So what do you plan on doing about this? Do the Aurors have any suspects in custody?_

 _"Several. However Minister Fudge has been too rattled by the incident to act on the information provided._

 _"Minister Fudge? But he wasn't even there when the attack took place. Thank fully he had left and survived the attempt!_

 _"Minister Fudge has lost his courage. The loss of several of his supporters has made him panic and sadly he has become unfit for the station he holds._

 _"What are you saying Lord Malfoy?_

 _"I'm saying that I am going to call for a No Confidence vote in Minister Fudge in the Wizengamot and then I am going to stand for elections myself! Our world had found the need for a strong leader and right now, Cornelius Fudge is not that man."_

 _Lord Malfoy chose to leave after this spicy revelation! Dear readers, can you believe this? Even after surviving a terrible attack at his home, Lord Malfoy's will is unbroken and stronger than ever!_

 _Now with the rising ember of unrest in our community, the need for a powerful man at the helm of our government is greater than ever!_

 _Keep your eyes on this space for more from your favourite correspondent Rita Skeeter._

Across pockets of magical communities across England, Scotland and Ireland, the ripples of rumours that originated from a manor in London gradually grew into a wave with teeth. A tsunami of uncertainty was looming over Magical Britain.

No one could tell when it would crash.


	11. Vanish

**Vanish**

Harry stood at platform nine and three quarters not quite sure where he had to go. On one hand he had no interest in returning to Janus and on the other his invitation to Malfoy Manor had been rescinded due to extenuating circumstances or so Lucius Malfoy explained in his letter.

This led to a road block Harry was not expecting to find. Where should he go? He supposed Privet Drive was an option, maybe Dudley would be there and he would get a chance to skin that fat pig... or perhaps Diagon Alley?

He was saved from the conundrum when he spotted the headmaster walking towards him from the gateway.

"Did you have a nice trip Harry?" he asked cheerfully, like he was Harry's parent.

Harry scowled. "What do you want? School is over."

"I am your guardian Harry. Where you go is my responsibility and I hardly think Janus is the place for you now. I've found you a home I think you might prefer over the stifling environment at Janus."

He took a hold of Harry's arm and Harry let him, knowing this was the part where they apparated. He suppressed the instinct to lash out and let the headmaster take him to places unknown.

They reappeared in a field of sunflowers. The sun was almost directly above them and a warm wind breezed through what Harry understood was a hill top.

Serenity and tranquility washed through the void and Harry smiled. This was a beautiful place Dumbledore had brought him to.

"Missed the mark," Dumbledore chuckled. "Come on Harry. There a path up ahead."

Careful not to step on any flowers, Harry followed the headmaster to a narrow stone path leading up the hill.

A flock of colourful little birds raced past them chirping and dancing making Harry laugh.

Dumbledore glanced at Harry and smiled sadly. The boy was badly damaged. Perhaps beyond repair. He had an inkling of the way the boys mind worked but his thoughts were too haphazard and his magic too chaotic for him to make much sense of it. It was entirely his fault Harry Potter had ended up like this. He could see the golden gem the boy could have been but it was all for naught. Now the boy clung on to one thing alone. The only thing that kept his mind from shattering completely. Magic. Or the void as the boy so affectionately called it.

A cottage came into view.

It was a small thing. Had a thatched roof and appeared to be made of badly cut logs. Thin wisps of smoke was rising from the chimney.

There were several fenced fields behind the cottage where chickens, sheep and cows grazed lazily. Basking under the yellow glow of the sun.

Outside, near the cottage, a man was hard at work, cutting up big logs into smaller logs. He was well built, shirtless and had long wavy black hair.

"Sirius."

The man turned. Grey eyes widened when they saw the boy beside Dumbledore.

For a moment there was complete silence. Dumbledore stared patiently, Sirius apprehensively and Harry curiously.

"Well," the man named Sirius said with a sigh. "You better come inside."

Sirius took a shirt that was lying in the grass, dusted it and put in on casually, not bothering to button it up. Harry's attention was drawn to the moving tattoos that adorned his chest and arms.

"Are-," Dumbledore began.

"Asleep," Sirius said abruptly. He knew what the headmaster wanted to ask.

The front door opened with a screech as the bottom dragged against the stone floor.

"Gotta fix that," he mumbled.

The inside of the cottage was remarkably well done and larger than possible.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw the webs of magic that pulsed through the entire house. It was amazing. The front door opened into a large sitting door decorated tastefully with polished woodwork and magical portraits. Opposite was an open kitchen with counter running around three corners. A fire crackled beneath the stove and above it was the opening for the chimney.

"Tea?" Sirius asked gruffly.

"It's the middle of the day Sirius."

"What about you Harry?" Sirius asked. There was something odd in his voice when he said Harry.

Harry ignored him and focused on the tightly bound threads of magic that physically reformed into stairs leading to a second floor.

"He doesn't talk much," Dumbledore said apologetically.

Sirius shrugged and poured himself a cup.

"The Dursley's treating him okay?"

"Not quite," Dumbledore said carefully. "A lot has happened. Harry doesn't live there anymore."

Sirius hummed and led them to the sitting room and gestured carelessly at the sofa's, inviting them to sit.

"Why are you here Dumbledore?"

Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily, looking every bit his age.

"Things have happened Sirius. Things that our strained world is ill equipped to deal with."

"I don't care."

"I see a Civil War coming."

"Great. Is that all? I'm sure you didn't make this trip for idle conversation. I can imagine what you're here for and I don't approve. It's not the place for him."

"He has nowhere else to go." Dumbledore hesitated. Weighing the pros and cons of the truth. In the end, he settled to tell the truth. "There was an incident when Harry was very young which led him to brutally murder his uncle and aunt."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "Wha-!?"

Harry's eyes brightened at the mention his uncle and aunt's death. "That was a fun night," he giggled.

"Harry is something of a Sociopath Sirius. I have kept this under wraps for now but now that he has re-joined our world, sending him back to the juvenile prison is not an option."

"Hold on one bloody second!" Sirius shouted, jumping to his feet. His cup had fallen and shattered on the floor. Tea began to spill under his armchair. "Just shut the fuck up for a moment."

Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It didn't help.

"What do you mean Harry killed his relatives? What the fuck Albus?"

"I won't sugar coat it Sirius. They abused Harry. And one day Harry snapped. He used magic to kill his uncle and slit his aunt's throat."

Sirius collapsed into his chair. "Merlin," he whispered. "Oh Merlin!"

"He's not quite stable," Dumbledore added.

"You promised Albus," Sirius said, his voice shaking. "You promised he was safe. You promised!"

"I was wrong."

Sirius goggled. "I can't believe you. What kind of a person are you!" he shouted. "First you let me rot in Azkaban for almost a year. Then you don't let me take Harry and now you're telling me my godson is insane and a murderer?!"

Dumbledore felt his heart ache. "The blood wards-" he started.

"Fuck the blood wards! A lot good they did!"

"Would be have been better off here Sirius?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Sirius hesitated. The anger rushed out leaving him empty and exhausted. He was always exhausted. He didn't have much to live for. He looked at Harry who was busy staring at the ceiling with his mouth half open.

"A sociopath huh," Sirius said. He drew his wand and vanished the spilled tea and repaired the cup before banishing it to the cupboard.

Suddenly footsteps echoed from the top floor and someone began to descend down the stairs.

Harry turned to look and grimaced at the sight of the lady reaching the bottom of the stairs.

She had dull red hair that was thinning rapidly. She was bone thin with a bathroom robe covering her up. Her green eyes were hollow and empty and she was shuffling across the room aimlessly.

Sirius ran to the door and opened it allowing her to walk out.

Harry was revolted by her. She had no core at all. He had noticed even muggles having a tiny spark but she had nothing. There was no trace of any magic in her. There was no life in her. She was just a body walking. There was no soul. It was absolutely disgusting.

It must have shown on his face because both Sirius and Dumbledore were looking at him sadly.

"Would you like to say hello to your mother Harry?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry's introduction to his father was certifiably bizarre.

James Potter had a unique mental condition that made him revert back to his thirteen year old self randomly. Every time he did, he woke up and panicked. He had to be taken care of constantly and had nervous breakdowns regularly. His mind was broken and he sometimes remembered what really happened to him. It was how the truth about Peter Pettigrew was shockingly revealed.

"You? You're my son? Harry?"

Harry was too stunned to reply as the man knelt before him, his hands on his shoulders and brown eyes looking deep into his with regret and hope. Harry just couldn't believe how alike the man looked to him. Except for the brown eyes, balding head, wrinkled skin, Harry felt like he was looking into a mirror that showed the future. Of course Harry pictured himself not looking like he was diseased and dying.

Brown eyes flickered and confusion entered.

"-why am I staring at a clone?" he demanded childishly. He backed away and fell, feeling disoriented. "What the hell? MOM!" His eyes darted around, recognizing nothing, feeling completely unbalanced. MOM! DAD!" He was beginning to panic and Sirius came running.

"Hey! Hey James," he said softly, kindly. "It's me Sirius!"

"Sirius?! What the hell did we do man! Why I am all huge? Why are you old? Don't tell me we screwed up an age potion dude. Holy Merlin dad is going to kill me!"

"Yes. We screwed up a potion," Sirius replied calmly. "Now just take a few deep breaths and take a moment to think. Come on now, let's go to my bedroom and plan a way to reverse this colossal backfire."

"Yea, and who's the look alike shrimp dude? He's got Lily's eyes though."

"Golem gone wrong," Sirius lied with a chuckle.

"Fuck. Why don't I remember that?"

Sirius led James out of sight and Harry blinked. That had been bizarre. "I thought they were dead," he commented.

"Let's go outside Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "I have a lot to explain."

Dumbledore mumbled something about child environment, protection, some guy named Voldemort, the name sounded familiar, and it all bounced off Harry's head. This didn't interest him. Meeting husks who were called his parents was boring. Being introduced to some man who was his godfather was dull.

Harry was itching to go back to his books. He had also seen a bookshelf in the sitting room and was waiting to go and see if there was anything interesting.

Hours began to tick past, Dumbledore and Sirius talked some more and soon it had been days since Harry was left in the care of his godfather. Harry after a couple of days couldn't take the magic in the house. It was too dull, depressing and miserable. James slept and woke up ten times a day, screaming his lungs out, Lily walked like a zombie, lifeless and animated. Sirius ran the whole day long, feeding them, bathing them, clothing them. The man was a robot that refused to give out.

Harry stayed away from the cottage and chose refuge in the sparse forest near the cottage.

There the sounds of birds and tiny creatures rustling about calmed the agitation of the void and his mind was able to focus onto the picture book. He had found it in the bookshelf. It was a book of famous locations in the world. Harry was staring at a picture of a desert. It was a vast expanse of dunes. Camels were captured in the photo and there was a sun beating down, making the sand shine golden. Harry wished he were there.

He wanted to know what it was like to truly fight for survival. The desert was one place every book described as harsh, unforgiving and deadly. The void reformed around him, brimming with his intentions.

And then, with a resounding crack. Harry Potter disappeared.

Hours later Sirius wandered out into the forest looking for Harry. It was dinner time and the boy was nowhere to be found.

"Harry!" he shouted. The sun was beginning to set. It was going to be a full moon. Moony would be around and he was sure Prongs would want to join them. "Harry, where are you? You got to get inside!"

He found Harry's nest and discovered dozens of books lying around covered with dry leaves. He knelt and picked up Wonders of the World and snapped it shut. "Where are you Harry?" he whispered. He used his nose to try and sniff which direction the boy went it but there was no trail. His scent was centered around the trees and didn't go anywhere else.

Worry coiled in his gut. Where was Harry?


	12. Part Two - The Dream

**Part Two -** **The Dream**

 **Survival**

 _Survival is the basic instinct that drives conscious beings to want to live._

 **Hogwarts, Thirty first October nineteen ninety two**

 _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!_

 _Enemies of the heir beware!_

The words sent a chill down Daphne Greengrass. The entirety of Hogwarts was crowding the corridor and those in front were frozen still by the words and the stiff as death; cat, soaked in the pool of water outside the out of order girl's bathroom.

"What's going on here?! What's the hold up? Move you miserable brats!"

Filch pushed his way to the front, past the grumbling students who were getting annoyed by the hold up.

Whispers from the front began to travel at the speed of sound and the news began to spread. Thoughts and imaginations began to run wild until an anguished Filch's scream silenced them all.

"Mrs Norris! Mrs Norris. She's dead! Someone killed my precious!"

Daphne was near the front and could only watch with muted amusement. Someone had killed the cat. Maybe it was curiosity she joked in her head.

Headmaster Dumbledore and his posse' also pushed to the front and a moment later declared the cat wasn't dead. Daphne hummed, maybe it wasn't curiosity after all.

"It sure looks dead," Tracey mumbled queasily. "And what is that god awful smell?"

Daphne shrugged and met the eyes of Hermione Granger. Brown eyes looked surprised find the cold blue ones and quickly looked away. Daphne smirked.

"Alright everyone! Move along. This is not a show. Back to your common rooms or I will start deducting points!"

"Yea, listen to Professor Kitten," someone joked. Daphne turned her head and spotted one of the Weasley twins grinning and high fiving the other twin.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," McGonagall said coldly, wiping their grins away.

Slowly, the crowd began to move past although the movement was slow as everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the cat, the writing and the sobbing caretaker who was still moaning about his cat. Daphne supposed it was quite sad. Her sense of empathy had taken a hike due to the events of last Christmas leading to her being titled Ice Queen by her fellow housemates. Daphne loved it. That title was everything a young teenage girl aspired to be. That or Head Girl. Daphne preferred Ice Queen. Head Girl came with too many responsibilities and she wanted none. She had only one goal. A goal that had evolved and twisted over a long period of time. Now, it was the desire to rule over all the purebloods. To show them that it was her and not some poncy blonde they had to kneel before.

Her smile made Tracey wary and the red head took a step away from Daphne.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Headmaster's Office.**

Dumbledore was feeling quite crowded in his office. McGonagall was there looking severe. Minister Fudge who looked more haggard than ever. Auror Bones standing by the fireplace like a pillar of authority. Arthur Weasley; the new head of Muggle Born wizard and witch relations, the M.B.W.R for short and Lucius Malfoy, the new Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, looking like a Salamander had mauled his face, sitting straight as an arrow in his floating wheelchair.

"So," drawled Malfoy. "The Chamber of Secrets? Has Slytherin's heir returned?"

"A clear threat to muggleborn children," Bones boomed. This is going to be bad Albus."

"We don't know that," Arthur said wearily. "It could also be a prank. Merlin knows Hogwarts has enough trouble makers."

"Then it's not one in good taste," Dumbledore said heavily. "And I don't think this is a joke. I fear this is the work of a dark wizard."

"Who?!" gasped Fudge.

"I have no hard facts yet Minister." Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Lucius and Fudge followed the trail. His eyes narrowed when they landed on Malfoy and the cogs in the political mind began to turn.

A beetle flew past his nose and he swatted at the air irritably. The damn thing had been following him since last week!

"The last time the Chamber was opened there was a student who attended Hogwarts at the time. A student who would later grow up to become the most terrible Dark Lord our world would ever witness."

Dread began to pool around everyone's feet. It crawled up their legs unpleasantly and struck fear from the bottom of their hearts.

Fudge was the only one stupid enough to ask. "Who Albus?!"

Dumbledore paused and swept his eyes across the room solemnly. "Lord Voldemort."

The gasps of terror turned into an undulation flame of fear.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Four months ago**

There was a loud crack and a boy fell on a dusty and hard surface.

Harry Potter gasped and wheezing, feeling his stomach churn and eyes spin. He lay there, on his knees, trying to gather his senses and bearings while trying to digest the unexpected teleportation.

When he regained his sight and legs, he found himself surrounded by darkness. His pupils dilated, looking for any source of light when suddenly, blue twinkling dots began to blink into existence over the horizon.

Harry blinked rapidly and followed the lights, his neck turning back up observe the wondrous sight.

A cold breeze bite past and Harry coughed when particles of dust flew into his mouth and eyes. He desperately wiped his eyes and spat before trying to understand where he was but he could barely see his own hands.

He took a step forward and felt the sound of hardened dirt under his feet.

The wind continued to blow, sending dust flying constantly and Harry shielded his face and took another step forward.

He then realised he had apparated to some dry open place where it was night. For a moment he thought of the desert and then reluctantly dismissed the idea. The ground beneath his feet was hard. Sand was soft.

He wished he had some light. The moon was nowhere to be seen even though the sky was clear and dotted with beautiful stars. It took him a few seconds to remember the void. He pulled into it and moulded it into warming him as the cold was beginning to hurt him.

He tried to think back to charm books for the spell to conjure light and remembered. He put his hand into his pocket to grab his wand. His fingers scrapped the bottom of an empty pocket.

"Left it in the house," he mumbled. Harry closed his eyes and pictured how the threads of magic looked when he practised the spell. It was difficult because he rarely ever used that spell. There were always candles around.

Harry opened the face of his palm and concentrated. He pushed the void through his fingers and willed them to ball into a yellow ball of light. He felt a heat and opened his eyes.

Lo behold, a ball of yellow light shone above his palm blinding him for a moment.

When his eyes adjusted and looked around, trying to find something familiar. But there was nothing. He raised his arm above his head, allowing the light to spread further and all he saw was cracked, hardened earth. He was in the middle of a drought hit land. There was nothing but flat lands in all directions and no sign of life or light.

Excitement began to bubble in the Void. He was in the middle of nowhere. He had to survive. Feeling oddly elated, Harry began to walk. The wind howled and the young wizard smiled.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry didn't know when he had fallen asleep. He remembered walking on and on until he began to feel tired and hungry. The last time he felt this way was when he was at Privet Drive and usually, before the hunger drove him to be reduced to a state of begging, he was feed. He had never had to find food himself in those conditions.

When he woke, he felt heat beat down on him with a vengeance. The wind was still blowing. Only now it was harsh and hot. Harry grimaced and stood up. Insatiable hunger hadn't reduced him to a state of helplessness yet but he was feeling its impending arrival.

There was still nothing but hard earth around him but Harry could see a lot more than what his ball of light could provide. Now, with the sun half way to the top, he saw something that made his heart sore.

Mounds of pale yellow, rising and dipping into the horizon. He was in a desert after all! It was certainly not what he had expected from the pictures and descriptions.

Harry twisted and looked all around again. He had to find something to eat or drink or else his desert adventure was going to come to an early end.

There was nothing. Dare he risk heading into the unknown without water or food? He mentally sorted through his knowledge of magic and found that sustainable food was impossible to conjure. However water was in the realm of possibility!

He focused on the description of how to conjure it and could only recall wand motions and a spell. He growled. He was beginning to feel helpless without his wand.

What did he have to do?

Harry calmed his mind and closed his eyes. Magic was all about intent and direction. What magic was associated with water? He pulled at the depths of his memory and the picture of a rune popped into his mind.

Harry squatted and carved the rune of water in the ground with his nails. He then pushed the void at the rune and focused on the thought of summoning water.

He pushed all of the void at the rune keeping his intent strong. After a whole minute he felt exhaustion dig into his gut and he broke the connection of magic with a gasp.

Nothing had happened.

Harry frowned. That should have worked. The rune looked correct and his intent had been strong. Did he also have to say something? An incantation?

He was saved from his pondering when the ground began to rumble and crack.

Harry jumped to his feet and took a couple of steps back with wide eyes. Three seconds later the ground burst and a spring of crystal clear water began to spray a couple feet into the hot air.

"Water," Harry gasped in awe.

Then with delight, he ran into the pooling water and began to drink with greed.

He had never thought water could taste so sweet.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Twenty fifth September nineteen ninety two**

When Harry Potter didn't return to Hogwarts, an inevitable hue and cry was raised.

His story and the fate of his family was retold. The headlines screamed for blood at the loss of the saviour of the magical world. Articles by prominent journalists and novelists were published and statements were made by leaders in the magical world.

Lucius Malfoy took the opportunity to lay all blame on Albus Dumbledore and toppled the venerable wizard from his position as Chief Warlock. It was a pivotal position of law making and with his appointment to the helm of all decisions, the regulation of muggle born witches and wizards was born.

To counter this move, Minister Fudge, who was fighting with all his political skill, created the Department of Muggle born witches and wizard relations, which was responsible for their introduction to the magical world and their grievances. The office of misuse of magical artefacts was merged into it thereby making Arthur Weasley the department head.

The manoeuvre won Fudge the support of the surprisingly large muggleborn community and plaudits from pro muggleborn rights halfbloods and purebloods.

The title of Minister was still precariously balanced on his head.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Time unknown**

Survival was not easy. Harry never knew what survival entailed. He was only fascinated by Darwin's theory. Experiencing it was beyond what he had imagined. The Dursley's paled in comparison. Their treatment of him now just brought about of roll of his eyes.

He tore into the burnt flesh of the lizard with the spiny tale and threw it away once he had stripped it clean.

Days and nights had gone by and the more time he spent in the arid plains, heading towards the sands that seemed closer than ever and yet far away, the more aware he became of life under the ground. Anything that was aware of life had magic in them, Harry had realised. It made finding food a lot less hard. Without the Void he would be long dead.

Hunger still clawed inside him and his skin had sunk into his bones. He was alive but only just. He was surviving.

In spite of the pitiful condition of his body, unaware of the chaos his disappearance had wrought, his mind and magic were alive. He had never felt happier in his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Time Unknown**

The ground beneath his feet had turned soft. It was a moonlight night and Harry Potter sat on the first sand dune he had come across. The light from the moon cast an ethereal glow on the sand and he found himself drowning in its beauty.

His robes had worn out and he had cast his shoes away a long time ago.

Harry summoned the void and drew the rune of attraction into the sand lazily. It was difficult when there was so much wind and he casually created a wall with the void. The wind was blocked and he heard a howl of frustration. The wind in the desert always wanted to kill.

He successfully drew the rune and pushed the void into it with the intent of attracting living things. He had learnt which runes were useful. All his knowledge about runes, spells, magic, theories… all of them were useless. There were a few things he needed and the lack of complexity to survival was refreshing. Harry hated it when things got complicated. He liked life to be simple. Survival was the epitome of simplicity.

An hour later, he heard something move through the sand and lashed out with the void. It was a snake. It tried to thrash and escape as it was held in the air by the void but it was useless. The void was fashioned moulded into the physical form of a knife. Harry poured more magic into the physical manifestation and a gleaming butchers knife was willed into existence.

It swept through the air and chopped off the head of the snake.

Harry giggled and levitated the snake into the torn parts of his robes that had been fashioned into a bag. Finding creatures was difficult and when he did, he carefully stored them and preserved them with runes and magic until desperate hunger gnawed in his gut.

Harry stood up and moved on. He didn't know where he was going. He had no direction and no aim. It was oddly liberating.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Time Unknown**

On a particularly pleasant day, when clouds hid the sun and sporadic rain poured from the heavens Harry came across a sight that had him momentarily stunned.

He had scaled a particularly large dune and on the other side, coming up, was a column of camels and there were people sitting on them!

Harry didn't know what to do. He had completely forgotten that people existed in the world.

They were laughing and talking loudly with massive umbrellas over their heads.

When the lead person spotted Harry he exclaimed in shock and shouted something in a language Harry didn't understand.

Then began a flurry of moment and people began to dismount and rush towards him.

Harry was so surprised he just stared.

The people had dark brown skin. Many of them had horribly wrinkled skin and the women had metals pierced in their noses and ears.

They stopped a few feet away from Harry looked positively amazed and threw words that Harry didn't understand at all. They were dressed in odd colourful clothes.

A woman took a step into touching distance and Harry took a step back. In the meantime the people under the umbrellas managed to get down and Harry noticed they had pale white skin. A stark difference from the brown men and women who looked like they knew what survival was.

"Oh my god!" gasped someone. A male from his voice, Harry noted.

"Oh my god it's a kid! It's someone's kid!"

"What?! Oh my god, he's so small! He looks like he's half dead!" That was the horrified voice of a women.

The shouts of the white people seemed to prompt the brown ones to do something and a man reached out and grabbed Harry.

Harry reacted.

The Void lashed out and banished the man away from him. The man screamed and fell some ten feet away feeling like a moving wall had slammed into him.

Gasps and screams resounded in the desert. Harry's blood began to boil. These people were ruining the desert!

The void rose around him like a wind of vengeance and sand began to swirl around him. His eyes began to glow.

The Camels began to panic and screams of run had the unfortunate people running far away from the strange boy of the desert.

Harry calmed down when they began to run and the wind died down. Harry watched the people continued to run until their voice was no longer audible and they were little shapes on sand.

He nodded in satisfaction and decided to apparate away from them. His mood was ruined and he wanted to get as far away from the place as possible. It was clearly a location were people came and he didn't want to run into more of them. He focused on a spot he could see far up North and disappeared with a loud crack.

One of the white men held a camera as he ran, pointing it towards the boy and recorded it all.

The story of the Desert Guardian was born.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifth February nineteen ninety three**

 **Hogwarts**

Aurors were a common sight in Hogwarts now. The tall men and women in blood red robes were an inspiring sight to the children in the school.

Two more students had been petrified after the cat and both were muggleborns.

An explosively revealing article by Rita Skeeter post the second petrification sent a wild fire of rage and fear through magical communities. Fights between purebloods and mudbloods were more frequent. Fruitless investigations were launched into the attacks at Hogwarts until a second year student came to the startling conclusion it was a Basilisk running wild through the castle plumbing.

She spoke of her deduction to the headmaster and the Aurors came to understand it was a witch or wizard capable of controlling snakes; Rita Skeeter claimed it was a parselmouth and therefore was You Know Who sowing terror.

Tensions were high and aurors were dispatched to Hogwarts to find and kill the beast.

Minister Fudge wanted the school shut down but the move was blocked, surprisingly by both Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore.

It had been a week since that decision and the Aurors were no closer to finding the Basilisk or the person controlling it.

In the midst of it all Dumbledore was made aware of a story, of a boy mysteriously disappearing in a desert, making waves in the muggle world.

His investigations led him to find what muggles called a video. Fascination aside, Dumbledore recognized the boy in the moving photos.

He saw past small frame, the wild hair all over his face, the torn and dulled clothes, the obvious instant of the utilization of a banishing charm and apparation. It was Harry Potter!

What the blazes was he doing in India!


	13. Found

**Found**

Rita Margaret Skeeter considered herself a highly successful journalist. She managed to get scandals and secrets out of high profile persons with ease that made her peers burn with jealousy. Add her acidic style of writing and she gained the power to inspire an entire world of people.

The last two years had seen her salary hiked numerous times, she was gifted bonus on top of bonus and soon, the expectations from the editor got so high that she began to find it difficult to find more sensational news reports.

It was then she resorted to fabricating stories and publishing more fiction than fact. She hated doing that, it was an insult to her investigative skills, but she was far too attached to lavish mansion and elvish foot rubs.

She patted down her dark green robes and checked if her hair was neatly bunned on her head. Satisfied, she slung her crocodile green bag and made towards the fireplace.

She had work to do, scandals to expose and news to invent.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Hogwarts; Fourth March nineteen ninety-three**

"Did you find him?"

Remus Lupin, a man with grey hair and a tired disposition shook his head wearily and slumped into the chair he was seating on. "We tracked his movement to the point of origin. Apparently he apparated, which I still do not believe by the way, to a place called the Rann of Kutch. We found traces of runic magic. Harry used runes to summon water from deep underground."

"It's still flowing?"

"It looks permanent," Remus said, a hint of awe in his voice. "There were several such runes used while Harry travelled into the Thar Desert in Indian Territory. His movements suggest he is going up North but after the sighting by the muggles his trail got cold."

Being a werewolf Remus could track any living creature with unbelievable ease.

"Indian Territory?"

"The desert stretches into Pakistan and there's this massive fence between the two countries. I didn't inquire into it and from the little I gathered, the two countries are constantly at each other's throats. I fear if Harry wanders towards one of the hot zones, he could accidentally be shot at and killed."

"We have to find him Remus."

"Sooner or later he is going to bump into locals. Now we have passed flyers in the neighbouring states, ensured people living in nearby villages and borders are aware of our search and in general covered the area all around Harry. We will find him but we don't know when."

Dumbledore sighed.

"What is he Dumbledore?" Remus asked hesitantly. He had been wondering from the moment he had been told about the boy. No witch or wizard could survive in such harsh climatic conditions for more than a week without constant food and water. He realised Harry had made a water source for himself but what about food? The desert barely had any fauna around.

"He is a game changer," Dumbledore said solemnly. "There's so much power in him that it's ridiculous. Right now he's aimless. Searching for a direction. Dreaming of a dream waiting to be realised. He has the potential to change the world and not an ounce of empathy." Dumbledore sighed. "It's been a long time since I've felt like I don't know what to do Remus. Voldemort is going to come back and our fate rests on the head of a deranged boy who apparently skips to deserts when he feels like it!"

Remus stared at Dumbledore wide eyed. It was the first time he was hearing frustration in the headmaster's voice.

Sirius who was seated quietly all this time snorted.

"Is something funny Sirius," Remus asked hotly, failing to understand what Sirius found so goddamn amusing about the situation.

Sirius barked a laugh. "I was just thinking Harry's a true Potter after all. They always did get under everyone's skin."

Remus goggled and then rolled his eyes. Amusement and nostalgia hit him hard. "Yea," he agreed with a chuckle. "The last Potter managed to royally piss of a dark lord after all. It's only fair his son does the same."

"You're calling me a dark lord Remus?" Dumbledore asked in amusement.

Remus began to stammer denials and explanations.

"He's calling you a white lord Albus. You certainly have the hair for it," Sirius retorted. "Now why don't we get back on topic? Harry is powerful – check. He's insane – check. He doesn't want to be found – check. How the fuck to we find him in the middle of goddamn nowhere!"

"Do we involve the ministry?" Dumbledore pondered. "For now they think Harry has been kidnapped."

"Have they found anything?"

"They think Harry is being held by muggle born activists," Sirius snorted.

"And they think it is a ploy by purebloods. Everybody is anticipating him being found and what he has to say," Remus added.

"And if they get their hands on him, considering his mental state, they are in for an explosive surprise," finished Sirius.

"I really didn't want to do this," Dumbledore sighed. "Fawkes!" he called out loud. "Could you spare a moment to help me?"

Sirius and Remus groaned. Resorting to asking a phoenix for help?! That was just asking for trouble.

All three waited with lumps in their throats.

"I'm not going to be involved in any deals Albus," Remus choked nervously. He glanced around as if expecting the air to catch fire any second and take him with it.

A blinding flash of fire erupted high above the room and a majestic creature of fire and gold spread it wings, flapping them lazily as it descended onto the perch beside Dumbledore.

It made a sound which had them feeling blissfully calm.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore said fondly. "It's good to see you old friend."

Black marble like eyes bored into the blue ones with frightening intelligence and the bird made another sound.

They felt amusement and curiosity and an urge to spit out what they wanted.

"We need to find Harry!" Remus blurted out and then looked horrified. "No wait! Albus will…"

But it was too late. The question had been asked. A deal was to be made. Fawkes opened his beak and Remus felt his magic pulse and change. Fawkes was speaking to him with magic and his magic understood what the phoenix wanted.

"Alright," he groaned. Any price would be fine to pay as long as they found Harry. He had a long apology to make anyway. "Alright. I'll do it!" he said loudly.

Sirius and Dumbledore looked relieved and curious as to what Fawkes had asked in return.

People always misunderstood phoenixes. Phoenixes weren't creatures of purity and light. They were creatures of the stars. And stars were not peaceful. They gave warmth to those far away and burnt those who got too close. Phoenixes were notoriously temperamental and proud. Their tears could heal the fatal wounds and came at a great price. Dumbledore was glad to have Fawkes as a familiar and he was also quite wary. Make one mistake that caused Fawkes to take offense and it would be his last. Fawkes knew this and enjoyed tormenting the wizard.

"So how will Remus find Harry?" Dumbledore asked politely, carefully wording his thoughts as well.

Fire flared in the office and Sirius had to put up a shield in alarm. It turned out to be unnecessary as Dumbledore, who didn't panic, was unharmed.

"Let's leave it in Remus's hands shall we?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Place Unknown**

Had it been months or years? Barring sunrise and sunset, Harry had lost all semblance with the flow of time. All that mattered to him when the thirst came, followed by hunger and the need for shelter. His skill at drawing water with magic had evolved far beyond anything he could have imagined. His skill at using runes to summon animals kept growing until he was capable of summoning bigger creatures. Birds flew to the ground, attracted by his runes. When he strayed close to civilization, people came, attracted by his magic. He sent sand storms at them to get them to run away. And when the desert began to fade and replaced by mud and speckles of green. All manners of creatures came to him, attracted by magic, unaware they were prey to a dangerous predator.

Sleep as it turned out was necessary and only for a few hours. Harry had used the void to tunnel a hole under the ground and settled in to get some shut eye around midday. The heat was unbearable at that time. His skin felt like it was on fire. He had resorted to attempting conjuring a hat, clothes and even a tent like structure but they always got blown away in sand storms. It was easier burrowing a hole in the ground and hiding in there.

He would stay in one place as long as there was food to get. He would get moving once the creatures wised up and began to stay away. Sometimes he would apparate randomly and once he attempted to make a sand castle. He failed spectacularly. He had managed to make a fifteen feet tall tower and was quite excited about living in it before an unimaginable force of wind had torn apart the magic holding it together and sent tons of sand tumbling down on him.

Harry had laughed after shaking all the sand out of his clothes and hair. It had started out as a giggle before getting blown into uncontrollable laughter that had his side hurting. He gasped for air and looked into the sky with his eyes wide with mirth and life.

He was having the best time of his life!

At present Harry was contemplating turning back and heading into the heart of the desert again. He couldn't believe he was seeing an end.

A loud boom nearly made him jump out of his skin.

He looked around wildly. Where had it come from?

Harry couldn't see any activity. Everything had gone silent… like the sound before impending doom.

And then suddenly everything went to hell.

Boom's echoed all in all directions. Dirt exploded around him. There was ringing sound in his ear and another explosion sent him tumbling to the shaking ground.

Harry couldn't see the threat. He didn't know where the danger was. He knew if he stayed he would most likely be killed. Panic struck him like a torrent of ice water.

 _I need to get out of here!_

With that desperate thought Harry apparated. The crack that accompanied it was drown by an explosion right where he was kneeling a moment before.

Harry didn't know where he had apparated too. He had wanted to get away from the danger and find shelter. He had not expected to find himself knee deep on the banks of a pond and surrounded by green.

The ringing sound was still in his ear and he worked his jaw trying to get rid of it. He tried to get out of the pond but found he couldn't. His body was shaking. The seed of fear had taken root and sprouted in him once again.

"Calm," he breathed out. "Calm down." Harry retreated to the Void where there was no emotion and only emptiness. He immediately felt the world fade and the sweet caress of darkness took him to its labyrinth.

The excessive use of magic coupled with constant hunger finally overwhelmed him and Harry fainted.

Near him a couple of spotted deer's looked at each other curiously before continuing to lap up the water. A band of crickets raised a racket from the depths of the trees that stretched high towards the heavens giving a blessed cover against the burning sun. Birds occasionally flew past, some big ones diving into the pond and resurfacing seconds later.

Among the calm activity of nature, a man walked to the bank of the pond as silent as a stalking tiger. He was not very tall, had dirty matted black hair that stretched down to the small of his back. He was wearing an orange sheet wrapped around his waist to cover the bare necessities. His skin was a dark brown and his eyes a curious shade of brown. They were murky, like those of the blind but moved with the sharpness of a hawk. He was wearing a dozen necklaces, adorned with odd ornaments and was holding a stick in his right hand.

The man used the stick to poke Harry.

Nature wasn't afraid of this man. The deer's continued to graze, one even came up to him and nestled against his neck. A panther came skulking out from the other side of the pond and after a critical look at the scene opposite it, the panther drank it's fill of water before skulking back into the forest.

The man however had eyes only for Harry. He poked him again and got no response. Seconds ticked by turning into minutes before the man came to a decision. He hoisted Harry out of the water and slung him over his shoulder with surprising ease. Harry was very underweight and small for his age as well. He barely hit four and a half feet and was as thin as the stick the man was holding.

The deer's looked at the retreating back of the man, munching on grass now, until he disappeared into the depths of the forest.


	14. Evolution

**Evolution**

 **Thirty first March Nineteen Ninety Three: Hogwarts**

Hogwarts was celebrating. The basilisk was finally dead and it was done thanks to the previous head girl of Hogwarts who was still affectionately known as Head Girl Tonks by many students of the school.

It was Auror trainee Tonks - who along with dozens of Auror trainees, as a desperate move by the Minister, had been sent to Hogwarts - who finally had the sense to question the girl who had died the last time the chamber of secrets had been opened and now haunted the second floor bathroom. Ten minutes of coaxing answers out of the stubborn ghost and three days of hiding out in the bathroom later, Ginny Weasley was caught hissing at a bathroom sink revealing the entrance to Slytherin's chamber.

Only it wasn't easy capturing the girl as Tonks had thought when she laid eyes on her. Tonks had been in a duel for her life. Killing curses were flying like cheering charms at her and it had only been the fact that a eleven year old girl could do only so much magic that saved Tonks life and allowed her to stun the tiny redhead.

Tonks carried the girl to the headmaster's office where the shocking revelation was made. It was an enchanted diary that once belonged to Lord Voldemort that had possessed the girl and unleashed the Basilisk on the castle.

After that it had been a small matter of flooding the Chamber of Secrets, the entrance of which was still open as only a Parselmouth could shut it, with roosters whose crow was fatal to the basilisk.

Head Girl Tonks was made a hero to Hogwarts and scheduled to be awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class for services rendered to the Magical World. She was also promoted to the rank of Lieutenant in the Auror Corps, the youngest ever to make the rank at the age of eighteen.

To celebrate end of year exams were cancelled and a party was thrown in the Great Hall.

Students smuggled in firewhiskey and butterbeer; mainly by the Weasley twins and professors turned a blind eye except for Professor Snape who was handing out detentions like candy on Halloween.

Dumbledore was loving it all and had decided to retire early. There was only so much excitement he could take with the stress of a missing Harry weighing down on him. Remus had still not made contact and Fawkes had not returned. Dumbledore knew better than to call on the phoenix without reason. For now he had to trust in Remus.

He was walking back to his office when he rounded a corner on the seventh floor and ran into Sybill Trelawney. The Divination professor squawked in surprise and fell on her rear, her big eyes wide with surprise behind her huge round glasses.

The bag she was carrying fell open and bottles of Sherry rolled out.

"Headmaster!" she gasped.

"Didn't see that coming Sybill?" Dumbledore joked merrily.

Trelawney stood up shakily. She was clearly tipsy. "The workings of the inner eye are a mystery even to us seers Albus," she said, reverting to a dreamy self.

"Of course," Dumbledore said solemnly, containing his mirth. "Do you need help getting back to your quarter Sybill? I could call a house elf."

Trelawney went unnaturally still.

"Sybill?"

" _The decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky. Two paths will lay before him… one leading to salvation … the other… devastation. His decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky…. Salvation …. Devastation …. His decision will…"_

The seer coughed and her eyes, that had gone misty, turned clear and she blinked in confusion. "Albus?"

Dumbledore was in shock. Trelawney had made another prophecy! One that was as vague as the one before! What decision? Who was she talking about? Please don't let it be Harry!

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is okay Sybill. Enjoy your Sherry," he said absently before walking past her without looking back. He had to review the memory in his pensive. Devastation _._ The word echoed in his world.

 _Devastation._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifth March, Nineteen Ninety Three: Amritsar, Punjab, India.**

Remus had never experienced such heat before. He was soaked in sweat ever since the damn phoenix had dropped him at the edge of a city he had now identified as Amritsar in India. It was a holy city for a sect of religion in the country and Remus would classify it as exotic and beautiful if it weren't for the heat.

The people were very friendly and had responded kindly to his inquiries about Harry. Fawkes must have brought him here if Harry was close. He used a translation charm to speak with the locals who were absolutely delighted he could speak their tongue. Of course, it only seemed like he was talking their language.

It made finding lodging and a restaurant easy however the spice and taste of Indian food had him gulping water like there was no tomorrow. The men were all big, bearded wearing turbans, who laughed at his reaction to the food.

"Better than that bland stuff you English call food eh?" one man had said. Remus took a moment to realise it was English the man was speaking.

"We prefer our food light," Remus said tiredly. The heat was killing and he had been there for only five hours.

"No wonder you can't take the heat. So what brings you to Amritsar? No doubt it was the lure of the Golden Temple!"

The man was wearing white cotton pants and a shirt. His turban was red and he had a moustache that stretched beyond his cheeks with facial hair neatly combed.

"Actually, I'm looking for a boy," Remus said carefully. "He got separated from his family when they were in the area and they're very worried."

"A boy? What boy?"

Remus pulled out a picture of Harry from his first year class photo.

"He's just a baby!" the man gasped. "How did his family loose him and where? If a white boy got lost in our city word would spread faster than the strike of a cobra!"

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," Remus said with a smile. "The child is the son of a famous person and there's a huge reward for his return."

"Igniting a man's greed will not help you here my friend," the man laughed. "You're in the presence of god here. Go and pray at the temple. Speak to god and then look for your boy."

Remus blinked. He had not expected that.

"Err…"

"Don't err British man. Just pray and follow god's guidance."

Remus sighed. Why had the phoenix left him here when there was clearly no sign of Harry? If he didn't find Harry soon, there was no way he was going to honour their agreement!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Place Unknown**

When Harry awoke it was under the cover of trees with his back against warm bark.

He felt rested and relaxed. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. He also didn't feel the heat bearing down on him which made his eyes widen as he realised he was not where he wanted to be.

He jumped to his feet and felt his head spin his blood resumed circulation.

His eyes took in his surroundings and found them to be completely unfamiliar. There was no sand, no endless skies, and no sparse flora. It was disorienting. He heard a rustle behind him and summoned the void, ready to strike. However when he laid eyes on the disturbance, his hold on the void slipped through his fingers like slime and his eyes widened in wonder.

A man stood before him and it wasn't how he looked that captured his eyes. It was his core. It was unlike anything Harry had ever seen. He had six cores. All having different colours, rising from red at the spine to violet around his forehead. They were spinning with an ethereal glow around his body and seemed to convey emotions to Harry. The red at the spine spoke to Harry of a well of power, the orange above of passion, the yellow of authority, the green of an unfamiliar emotion, the blue of knowledge and the violet of clairvoyance. He was having a conversation with magic. It seemed like the magic wanted to go higher still but it looked like the path to the seventh core was still blocked. Harry wondered why. His curiosity was drowned by that fact that there could be more than one magical core!

The man glared at Harry sternly and the yellow pulsed.

Harry felt a wave of intimidation wash over him, drawing out a need to obey and respect this man. He lowered his eyes, unable to stand the sight of the man's magic. It was too bright!

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and the green and red enveloped him, calming him to a state Harry didn't think possible. He felt safe. It was weird.

The man spoke something, his voice hoarse and unused. Harry didn't understand. It was alien to him. He blinked, uncomprehending.

Suddenly the colours, as if sucked into a vacuum, disappeared and a middle aged man stood before Harry. He was probably two heads taller than Harry, had matted brown hair that could almost be classified as dreadlocks. His eyes were a curious brown and his skin was wrinkled in places over a thin frame. He was wearing an orange sheet carelessly wrapped around his waist and was looking down at Harry with amusement.

He then closed the distance between them and knelt down to get to eye level with Harry.

Then, in an accent that clearly said the man had never spoken English before, he said, "Stay," and pointed at the ground, "Go," and pointed to the West.

Harry understood. He had a choice. He chose to stay. He pointed to the ground. He itched to know more about the cores.

The man smiled. It wasn't a welcoming smile but one that promised Harry was not going to like his decision. He looked disapprovingly at Harry and then placed his hand over Harry's chest.

Harry had only a moment to see the green seeping into him before his emotions started to go haywire.

He gasped and fell to his knees as the man stood up and turned away.

It began as a feeling of yearning. Longing for the desire to have a mother wrap her arms around him. Regret and repentance for killing his relatives. Reciprocating Daphne's friendship. The want and need to have friends. The feelings kept coming. Harry realised it was love.

He couldn't take it. It hurt so much! He curled into a ball and screamed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifth April, Nineteen ninety three; Ministry Of Magic.**

"It was him. Malfoy. It had to be. I'm not going to let that son of a bitch get away with this."

Arthur Weasley was furious. It didn't look it but the colour of his ears gave him away. They were red and letting out steam.

"What are you going to do about it? We don't have any proof," said Perkins. Arthur's second in command.

Arthur glared at the small black diary that so innocently lay in a plastic bag on his table. He had fought tooth and nail to get it under his authority. His argument was it was a diary about it the muggle world that was enchanted to possess people, therefore it came under misuse of muggle artefacts. He had two days before it had to go to the Department of Mysteries.

The redhead drummed his finger on his oak table. It was a vast improvement over the closet that was once his office. "I read this newspaper clipping once. A muggle one. About how muggle aurors use finger prints to find criminals."

Perkins looked blank.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on. We're going to a police station." He grabbed the bag and stuffed it into his robe pocket.

"What?"

"Get your arse moving and follow me Perkins," Arthur snapped.

"Wouldn't Auror Tonks be more suitable for this?" Perkins whined.

The proverbial light bulb turned to 'on' in Arthur's mind.

" _That_ is an _excellent_ suggestion! Let's go find her."

Arthur Weasley was on a mission to prove his daughter innocent and systematically destroy Lucius Malfoy. He had one month to do it before Ginny Weasley was to go on trial as an accessory to attempted murder!


	15. Horror

**Horror**

 **Time Unknown**

Why? What was he feeling? Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like someone was squeezing his heart. With fingers of long and sharp nails that dug in deep. Leaving scars and holes. Emotions that he had never felt before made him groan and clutch his head as if in agony. Ten years' worth desperation for attention, for love, for the need to be wanted churned inside him like tiny constant explosions.

"Please," Harry whimpered.

He didn't want to feel this. It took him back to a time, far back in the past, before the discovery of the void. A time after which those emotions had been shut away in a dark hole, forgotten until this moment.

 _"May I go to the park Aunty?"_ His young innocent voice echoed from within.

 _Slap! "Freaks don't show themselves!"_

 _"Look! Miss Ariana gave me an A!"_

 _"Mum!" Dudley sobbed. "Harry took my paper!"_

Harry remembered his first lashing.

 _Freak! Vermin! Good for nothing! Your parents were drunkards! You don't deserve to live!_

Every word was a stamp on his soul. Pushing it into the abyss inch by inch. Until the Void found Harry and Harry found the Void.

 _"Harry turned the teacher's hair blue mum! Everyone knows it was him!"_

 _Whip! Lash! Kick!_

The emotions in response to the horror Harry had endured had been buried deep to cope and survive. Now they were brought back to the surface. Emotions long forgotten. The Void was in turmoil. It was a creation of the desire to be empty of pain. Now all it felt was pain.

"Please!" Harry screamed. It hurt so much that he couldn't see. "Please stop this!"

Night was coming and the man was eating calmly, not bothered by Harry's pleas. Creatures of the night stayed away. They could feel the pain of the boy's magic and were scared away by its nature.

"Please," Harry begged. "Please," he whispered through tear stained eyes.

Exhaustion stretched his mind thin.

"Please," he cried.

And then he lost consciousness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Thirty first March Nineteen Ninety Three**

"Beautiful wasn't it?"

"I've never seen anything like it," Remus said quietly. "I've never been outside England before. Even our history books are centered mostly on home. I've never thought what wonders could be outside home."

"Our country is beautiful to those who understand it. Once you understand it, you never want to leave. It's easy to start thinking of it as home no?"

Remus had made friends with Dopender Singh. The man he had met in the restaurant and who had kindly offered him a room in his home until he found Harry. Dopender was a car dealer and had generously offered to lend Remus a car and teach him how to drive once he realised the man couldn't .

The werewolf frowned. He realised he was getting too comfortable being away from responsibility. He had a job to do and that was to find Harry. He viewed it as salvation for all the bad decisions he had made in his life.

"Are you alright Remus?"

"It's going to be a full moon tomorrow," Remus muttered.

"So?'

"Nothing," Remus said quickly. "Do you mind if a take a drive tomorrow and visit the neighbouring villages?"

"Alone?"

"Yes. I need some time alone."

Dopender frowned. "You know the way back?"

"I can handle myself," Remus said with a gentle smile. "Please don't worry. I know your family is having a celebration tomorrow and don't want to be in the way as well."

"Nonsense! You're welcome to join us!"

"Please Dopender. I need to do this."

"Oh alright." He fished in his pocket and removed a piece of paper. He then wrote a number on it and gave it to Remus. "If you get lost, find an STD booth and call me. I will come."

"Thank you."

"Now let's go home. You're going to need money as well."

"Dopender please!"

"I insist," the man boomed in his loud voice leaving no room for argument.

Remus acquiesced and smiled. "You're a kind man Dopender."

The next day before sunset Remus drove as far out of the city as he could without running out of fuel for the return trip and then took off on feet into the wilderness beside the highway.

He didn't have the wolfsbane potion with him. He didn't have a place to hide. The forest was the only option where he could transform. It lacked the thickness of the forests he roamed in back home and he knew there were hundreds of farmlands all around. He prayed he wouldn't run into farm animals or people. He could do a lot of damage as a wolf.

Night began to crawl into the spaces between the light and Remus began to run. The clouds parted and moonlight shone through the trees.

Remus felt his heart beat faster. The transformation had begun. His jaws snapped, deforming to change into a snout. His teeth sharpened and eyes turned yellow. Bones shattered changing shape. Remus howled.

Deeper inside the forest, the howl of a wolf stirred a boy with dark hair and green eyes to the brink of an awakening.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was the smell that woke Harry up. A whiff full of wet soil and grass was quite soothing as compared to feeling of sand particles going into his nose.

The crackle and warmth of a fire made his raise his head and look towards the source. The man was there. Sitting in a meditative pose, his eyes closed and hands in his lap. His aura was pulsing and magic was swirling hypnotically all around him.

A small plastic sheet lay next to him with rice mixed with what looked like stew.

Harry's stomach growled.

Shakily, he stood up. His body ached. He felt like he had gone through hell, been trashed over and over again before being spit back out.

He stretched his hands over his head and groaned in pleasure when he felt bones crack. Even though his body ached. He felt good. In fact he felt like something missing had been returned to him and now he was whole.

He sighed and unbidden, a smile came to his face. What had happened?

Suddenly the memories returned and anger rose to the surface. What had the man done to him? He had never felt so much pain before! The sudden urge to kill the man before him rose to the surface but the growl of his stomach made him reconsider. His anger left just as fast as it came and he felt something new. A desire to just let go. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Do you feel peace?"

Harry was startled. The man had spoken! His eyes were still closed and he was still in deep meditation. For a moment Harry thought he imagined it.

A wolf's haunting howl ripped through the still atmosphere and Harry turned sharply towards the sound. The wolf sounded like it was close.

"Eat."

Harry whipped his head back towards the man but again, he was still and unmoving.

Keeping a suspicious eye on the man Harry picked up the sheet and sat opposite the man. Not a sound came from him and the growl of his stomach urged him to eat.

Harry dug in with his hands and for the next five minutes he stuffed his mouth until the tiny plastic sheet was wet and empty. Once he was done Harry thought about the words he had heard.

 _Do you feel peace?_

Strangely he did. He felt whole.

"I… what did you do to me?" Harry asked softly.

There was no answer.

"Who are you?"

Again, no answer.

Harry sighed. His mind still felt scrambled. There was no direction. The obsession of surviving in the desert felt like a vague dream now. What had been the point of that? He wasn't able to make his thoughts connect.

The man opened his eyes and Harry found himself captured by those misty brown eyes. Suddenly Harry realised… the man was blind! And yet he was looking at him like he could see him!

"The question you should be asking… child… is _who are you?"_

"I…" Harry didn't know. He didn't know who he was. Everything that he was before felt blurry. "I'm..." Even his name wasn't coming to his mind.

"What do you remember," the man asked from the other side of the fire.

"Pain," Harry whispered. "Regret. Longing."

The man stood up. "Your journey is your own. Good bye child." He then turned his back on Harry and started to walk away.

Harry's eyes widened. "Wait! Who are you! What are you? Your magic… what is it?!"

The man stopped. "Magic? There's no such thing."

Harry blinked in shock and in that split second the man disappeared.

In the minutes of silence that followed Harry suddenly realised that not once had the man opened his mouth to speak. A shadow moved within the trees and for a moment Harry thought the man had returned.

He was wrong. It was a monster. A tall hulking, hairy creature, standing on it's hind legs, looking at him with hungry yellow eyes.

A predatory growl rose from its gut and in-spite of all that had happened. The desert. The hunger. The explosions. The emotional awakening. The cryptic man. Harry's primary instinct had not changed or gone.

His instinct to survive to strong as ever.

Harry summoned his magic just as the werewolf lunged at him.


	16. Fire in the Sky

**Fire in the Sky**

People called him a Yogi. Some called him a Sage, on the path of enlightenment. He had no concept of I. He existed as a part of the universe. It was the universe that guided him. He didn't have a name, nor a purpose. He was one part of a universal consciousness existing, in this moment of time, in the form of a human being. Meeting with the boy missing his heart was simply the will of the universe. Activating his heart was the decision of the universe. His spiritual vision had willed the boy to be presented with a choice. What purpose it served… he didn't know nor needed to know.

"Please take this offering from us guru-ji." A farmer was prostate before him. Offering food and money. "Please take our offering and bless our crops."

He didn't smile. He looked into the farmers hopeful eyes and placed his hand on his head. Then he gently took the bag and continued his journey on the search for enlightenment, leaving behind a young man ecstatic at being blessed or so he believed.

Feet crunched on dried twigs, leaves and pebbles and continued to move forward, on a path unknown. Such was the life of a Sage.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thoughts that were disjointed. Emotions that confused him. All of it disappeared the moment the monster attacked with a terrifying roar.

Survival instincts were drilled into his core. And those instincts told him to duck and roll aside.

The werewolf's claws missed him by inches and it went crashing into the tree behind him, splintering the bark.

The Void screamed. His heart was pounding. Fear had made itself known.

The wolf turned around to attack once more. Drool dripping down yellow teeth and eyes burning like desert noon.

It lunged again and Harry apparated.

He reappeared some distance away where he could hear the wolf faintly hear the wolf howling in anger at losing its prey. Harry fell to his knees panting.

"What is happening?" he moaned. Whatever the man had done to him and had made him a complete mess. His mind was missing its sharpness. His magic missing finesse. Harry clutched his head and screamed. " _What is happening?!"_

Screaming wasn't the best thing to do when escaping from a werewolf. The realisation came when he heard the beast pounding its paws against the earth, its sounds getting louder.

"I have to run," he whispered, eyes wide with panic. "I should apparate."

 _Should you?_

"Should I?"

His heart was beating so hard that he could hear the pounding in his ear.

 _Why are you afraid?_

"I don't know," he said helplessly. "There's too much confusion."

Suddenly he yearned to go back to the desert. Where everything was simple.

 _Why was it simple?_

"I don't know."

 _Yes you do._

"I don't!"

 _Come on. Think. That man made you whole. Things are complicated now. But you can make it simple. Think! The monster is getting close._

"Because I was away. I was with magic."

 _So what's changed?_

Harry's eyes widened in realisation. "Is this what other people feel like?"

 _Makes the mind messy doesn't it?_

A familiar emotion made itself known to Harry. "That man," he said with a low growl. Anger began to make itself known. It oddly began to calm him down.

 _If you remain this way. You can finally know love. Have friends. Grow up normal. Isn't that amazing?_

Harry had never felt the need to be like others. However with his emotions all over the place, he, for the first time, felt the desire to have friends. To be normal. Like the other children in the school. Harry felt the yearning he felt the first time the man touched his heart. The need to be loved and to love.

Another realisation suddenly struck him.

"The void."

 _What Void? There is no Void._

"Yes there is!"

Magic swirled around him chaotically sending leaves flying through the woods. The ground began to shake, signalling the impending arrival of the wolf.

His subconscious laughed. _The void is just magic fool. You are whole now. Think like a normal person._

Harry's eyes danced wildly in their sockets. This was too confusing. He was arguing with himself. His self was splitting at the seams.

" ** _The Void is real!"_** Harry screamed. The Void had helped him when he was dying. When he was beaten. The Void showed him the desert. The Void taught him the wondrous nature of magic. The Void had always been there with him. Did having a heart mean the void would disappear?!

All the heart had done was confuse the hell out of him.

Harry reached out to the Void. "Fuck the heart," he hissed. Why had it taken him so long to realise it utter futility of having a heart. "I'm going to kill the wolf and rip out its heart to prove it doesn't exist!"

At the exact same time, Albus Dumbledore was staring out his window trying to understand the Trelawney's prophecy. He had no doubt it referred to Harry and he feared for the boy. Why hadn't Remus found him yet? Where was he?

He stared at the rising full moon and realised Remus was without wolfsbane. "I hope you're safe Remus."

Dumbledore stared over the forbidden forest, sinking deeper into his thoughts. When he noticed Fawkes flying circles around the Acromantula den. He smiled. The phoenix may be temperamental and dealt out favours and deals like candy but he was a friend. A good friend with intelligence no one could understand.

Fawkes dove into the trees and suddenly rose into the sky, something trapped in his talons, looking like a majestic ball of fire streaking across the sky.

Dumbledore gasped. _Fire in the sky! Harry! Remus! Full moon!_ "Fawkes!" Dumbledore shouted. He had to find Remus. Even if it meant trading his life.

Across continents a boy screamed in rage and let loose a torrent of destructive magic into the forest. Trees were ripped apart and the ground cracked under the stress of his rage.

He was on his feet now, his chest was heaving, eyes wild. He just wanted to kill. Killing would make the heart go away. He believed that. The monster was going to be his means to do it.

An ear shattering howl ripped through the air and the wolf bounded towards its prey.

Two predators faced each other. Both wanting to rip the other to shreds.

He felt a thrill of excitement burn his blood when the wolf lunged for his neck. He slapped his hands together and the air literally exploded. The wolf cried out and felt itself pushed aside by magic!

Harry remembered the time he fought the troll. He remember the joy of the void destructively flowing out of him.

The wolf scrabbled to its feet and growled at Harry. This time it stood its ground. The prey was fighting back. It was strong.

Harry however did not stop. He wanted to stop feeling. Killing would do that. He lashed out with the Void. His green eyes followed as the void turned lethally sharp and black and sped at the wolf.

Werewolves were magical creatures. And the wolf sensed death before him and reacted with the desperation of a cornered beast. It let the magic pierce it's shoulder and howled in pain but pushed forward with the strength of its hind legs to rip the prey turned predator.

It was no use.

Harry swatted the wolf away with murderous intent and another spear of magic tore into its gut before it could get away.

The wolf was being torn apart.

It was whimpering now. It could barely stand. Harry walked towards the beast with measured steps. Each ringing the doorbell of death for the werewolf. Magic was alive around him. His mind was clear with a single purpose at the forefront. He had to kill. He had to destroy the beast to restore his mind.

"Die," Harry whispered. He raised his hand and directed the void to wrap around wolf. He dragged it towards him and contorted it into position where its heart was at eye level.

The wolf struggled. It was bleeding. There were holes in its body. Spittle was flying as it howled and struggled with desperation. A werewolf, one of the most feared magical beings brought to a state of sheep against monster.

Harry opened the face of his palm. He was going to rip out its heart and that would be the end of the horror of having a heart.

A fire burst into existence close to him and even though he was distracted. He didn't let go of the wolf.

Dumbledore, arriving in the flash of phoenix fire, took in the scene and felt terrified for the first time in a long time.

"Harry! NO!"

Harry grinned. And slammed the face of his palm into furry chest of his father's best friend.

His decision was made.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Seventh April Nineteen Ninety Three.**

 _Trapped in the mind-set of a society, a community. My mind, my thoughts, my senses…they're all forced through tinted filters. My thoughts being forced to twist into something society would accept. When I was alone, without the influence of that society. My mind began to expand; like a spring without tension. I began to see, to feel and sense the unfurling of a different kind of knowledge. All those lines, the shapes, the damages, all becoming clear. I began to understand the shape I was really meant to be, which way I wanted to bend… and when the effects begin to wear off, when my freedom of movement began to constrict. I hated it. I want to be free. I don't want to be caged. I want the world to experience my freedom._

 _To me; freedom is survival. There's nothing like the struggle for life. Reading about it and living it are vast chasms apart._

 _What the sage in the forest did to me changed me. He made me feel something I never understood. Now I do understand. And I know. That feeling leads to weakness. It leads to domestication. It leads to people forgetting what the world's true nature is. Now my dreams are filled with images of the world buried in sand. People struggling to survive. The weak dying and the strong, surviving. A world without rules, without limits on imagination. A place where magic is might!_

 _I say this in my mind and stare with calm eyes from behind steel bars._

"Why did you do it Harry? Why?"

Albus Dumbledore. The man sounded broken. Apparently the sight of watching a beast's heart ripped out of its chest was too horrifying for him.

Harry laughed.

"I did it because I felt love." The shroud of the man who did it flashed in Harry's mind. "I didn't like it at all."

 _Salvation…. Destruction…._

The words echoed in Dumbledore's head. Harry had had a choice presented to him. And he chose the worst option.

"What happened to you, Harry?" he whispered.

Trapped in the dungeons of Hogwarts, Harry had to wonder for a moment. Was it all a dream? What if he was in a coma somewhere and was imagining all this as a method to cope? Everything that had happened to him seemed surreal. A week of imprisonment had him doubting his own existence.

He shrugged.

"Do you know what you did?"

Harry shrugged again. The morals and opinions of others didn't matter. They would only try and change him. Turn him into another idiotic citizen. What the man in the forest had done to him had not gone. He still felt it. Emotions. Desires. The emptiness of the Void was gone. There was more in it now.

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed. It had been a week since Remus's heart was ripped out by Harry. He had stunned Harry, overwhelming the power of his magic with his own and brought him to Hogwarts in secret. He kept him in the secret dungeons and ensured he was comfortable, had some nice books, food, a restroom and light provided; all behind bars of steel. "Please show me there's good in you." If Harry had sociopathic tendencies before he disappeared. A full blown psychopath was sitting before him now.

"I'm different. Does that make me bad?" Harry's voice was soft as always.

"You're not different. You're just confused. You're a boy Harry. You're twelve years old!"

Harry grinned. "So?"

There was a moment of silence between the two. Unknown to Harry; his mind was an open book to Dumbledore. The man didn't need to delve into the boys mind to know what he was thinking.

"So be it," Dumbledore said, his voice full of regret.

Harry looked at those blue eyes curiously, wondering what was going to happen.

He felt magic build and his eyes widened in alarm as he summoned to void to block the attack.

He was too slow.

 _"Obliviate!"_


	17. Part Three - Plans

**Part Three - Plans**

 **Colours and Cores**

Dumbledore changed his mind at the last second and with a grunt of effort, redirected the curse to splash harmlessly against the wall.

He couldn't do it. He knew he should. He knew removing all those horrible memories from the boy's mind would at least give him a chance to change into his model of the boy who lived. But obliviating and planting false memories in Harry's mind would bring him down to the level of a criminal. He was anything but that. He would lose his mind with the guilt that would accompany that act.

Harry's magic had flared and formed a protective cocoon around him. Dumbledore could feel its power. It had a thickness and fluidity that he had rarely seen in a wizard. Nicolas Flamel had magic that was similar. His own was like steel, Harry's was like a swamp: Thick, impenetrable and harsh. Flamel's was like a thick viscous fluid that was just as impenetrable but comforting where Harry's was destructive.

The boy's eyes were wide with surprise and showing the embers of a growing anger.

Dumbledore decided to show the boy his power but then he changed his mind again. He had done the same with Tom Riddle. It had been a colossal mistake. He had to do something that he had never done before in order to hope for a different outcome because no matter how many permutations and combinations his mind made, the boy was destined to be a dark wizard. Maybe even a dark lord if he found the proper motivation.

In the end. After years of attempting to push Harry Potter into becoming a hero that inevitably was going to be sacrificed for the greater good. Dumbledore let go.

The steel cage clanged and swung open.

"From here on out," Dumbledore said heavily. "I will not protect you. I will not favour you nor will I treat you any different from the other students at this school. You break the rules and I will leave you at the mercy of the rules. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry shrugged. His mind and soul had not yet fully recovered from that night in the woods.

Being held behind bars helped in a way. He spent a lot of time meditating like he had seen that accursed man do. He focused on the Void whose nature seemed to have shifted.

Harry was trying to understand it. He was trying to find the ground it stood upon now.

He focused on the colours of magic like he had seen in the man and now he could see it in others too.

Dumbledore had a powerful red, almost golden, at the base of his spine. It was the strongest Harry had ever seen. He had an active orange around his navel and a pulsating green around his heart. The blue surrounding his neck seemed like an endless ocean of knowledge.

Unlike the man in the forest, none of the colours were in sync with each other. They dominated their regions. Red for power. Yellow for authority. Green for empathy. Blue for knowledge.

Dumbledore was really fascinating, Harry realised. He himself had a strong red. He barely had orange and yellow. Orange he understood was pleasure. What kind of pleasure he didn't understand. His green was a faint thing that he had to focus really hard to see. If the man hadn't put it in him, it would have never been there. His blue was vibrant and violet - which he realised was clairvoyance, a soft glow. Dumbledore's violet was dark.

Magic having colours made Harry realise those colours were sort of like emotions strongest in living creatures. Although, how knowledge could be classified as an emotion, he wondered many a times and yet the blue around the throat always spoke to him of depth of knowledge. Or maybe it was the voice. Power to inspire with knowledge? So was inspiration the emotion? Or was it the wonder that was created in others with knowledge that was the emotion? Perhaps it was the power to manipulate emotions in others?

Ever since he gained this ability, he had not met other people. He had been confined in the dungeons. Left to observe the magic in objects. The walls of Hogwarts had a soft green and white aura. It was strange. When Harry touched the walls and pushed the Void against that aura, he almost heard a mystic giggle echoing all around him. The bars of steel had an angry red aura, like they were security guards, Harry felt. The bed had an orange glow, it was comfort. Clothes had red and orange; comfort and security.

Harry's sight had changed. He was understanding the world like he had never before.

When he used the runes that he knew now, he could almost see the reactions of colours behind a film that was hard to see through. Magic reacting to commands and producing as commanded.

There was still conflict in him. The little green that lingered in him was causing all sorts of trouble. When he realised the monster had been a man, he felt sorry. And then he felt rage. Why should he be sorry when the monster had attacked him!

Dumbledore's words evoked self-pity and then anger that the man was trying to make him feel guilty.

He was finding it difficult to find balance. He was unstable now. There were new feelings in him. He could only wait until he understood them and crushed them.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't care what the headmaster said. The old man's words were meaningless. It was his magic that could control Harry and now Harry sensed the man was unwilling to use it against him after attempting to take his memories.

He smiled. If the headmaster was unwilling to use magic against him then that meant his other threats were meaningless as well.

Dumbledore sighed when he saw Harry smile disturbingly. He was not going to interfere anymore. He was going to leave Harry's fate to fate.

"Follow me," he said grimly. "You need to understand what manic panic your disappearance caused."

Harry didn't follow. He had a frown on his face.

"Harry?"

"Why are you treating me different?" The headmaster had basically implied he was treating Harry specially until now. What possible reason could the old man have to treat him specially? What set him apart from the rest? Harry would have never realised this if it weren't for the green.

Dumbledore's red aura flickered from bright to pale although physically there was no change in him. A sign of unease Harry realised.

"I am your guardian Harry."

A lie. It was easy to spot now. The red had turned pale for a moment. It was subtle but he noticed.

"You're lying. Tell me the truth!"

The Void resonated with his words and Dumbledore felt an alien force compel him to confess. His eyes widened in alarm. He was having a Tom Riddle flashback. Tom, eleven years old, glaring at him in an orphanage.

Dumbledore felt weak.

"Follow me, Harry. I'll tell you everything," he said suppressing the shudder in his voice. If Harry was different, he would have refrained from telling him about the prophecy. With the way Harry was now, Dumbledore supposed hearing the prophecy might do more good than bad… … … _if_ he played his cards right.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Tenth April Nineteen ninety three, The Black Lake, Hogwarts**

It was a Saturday when Dumbledore finally let Harry back among the student population.

The official story was Harry chose to take a year off from Hogwarts because he was unwell. Details of his illness were private and those interested to know were asked to refer to his guardian, Sirius Black, who was conveniently untraceable and had issued a statement succinctly saying he was unaware of the panic Harry's disappearance had caused and was sorry.

Harry with his usual grace had shrugged and agreed. He really didn't care. He was, at the moment, staring at the lake, standing at the edge of its banks, marvelling at the sheer volume of water before him.

It had been so long since he had seen so much water. He understood the precious nature of water in the desert.

Children watched him standing at the edge but no one dared to come close to him. They were afraid of catching whatever had made Harry miss almost an entire school year. In a way he was lucky, some thought. He had missed the danger of being prey to the Basilisk and its master; Ginny Weasley.

The water lapped against his bare feet and Harry sighed. He looked up into the sky. It was a pale orange. The sun was setting in the west, over the horizon above the forbidden forest. There was so much green there. Cool air travelled out from within the forest and Harry shivered. It was odd. He had experienced colder temperatures in the desert night and yet this cool and calming breeze made him shiver.

It was pleasure he realised. His orange was glowing softly.

"Ya alright ther' 'Arry?!"

It was the giant. Normally Harry would ignore. But the green compelled him to respond with a wave. He made an odd jerking motion with his arm and the giant seemed happy.

Harry grimaced. Why did he do that? Suddenly he was feeling grown up. He understood so much more. He understood why people desired attention. It was a need to feed the green. To keep it under control. Harry had never had the green before so those gestures and emotions were meaningless to him. Now he understood them, if somewhat in a warped manner.

He breathed deeply. He was doing that more often. He was aware of his breathing and ensured he took in a long breath and held it for a second before exhaling. It kept him calm. It kept the Void quiet. There was chaos underneath it all. All because of a dash green. He had to keep in under control over risk losing his mind and senses. Maybe he should meditate more often, he thought. Try and bring his cores in sync with each other like the man in the forest. But the thought of growing the green made him sick.

No. He was not going to do that. The red, yellow and blue. Those were the important ones. Maybe even the Violet. He was going to focus on three. He was going to do his best to stamp out the green.

A voice at the back of his mind told him it was futile. A core once activated could not be turned off. Not without the risk of death.

"Hey Harry!"

He had not heard that voice in a long time. It felt oddly pleasant. The green pulsed and Harry scowled. He wanted to retreat into the void and kept his breath steady. It was important. Or else the Void would begin to get confused.

But he didn't. Instead he blinked and scowled harder. The green was urging him to talk. He then turned and began to walk back to the castle.

"Wow," Daphne laughed. "You haven't changed at all! Except you look like you just got baked and returned. You've turned brown and look at your hair for Merlin's sake! What kind of disease did you have?"

"I wasn't sick," Harry hissed. Just hearing the word disease made him annoyed and he had to destroy that notion. At least to Daphne.

"I knew it," Daphne said with a smirk. "That story about you missing school because you were sick was horse shit. I smelt it as soon as I read it. So what's the truth?"

Harry ignored her. He was missing the Desert. The complete lack of human sound had been beautiful. Now he was being assaulted from all sides. It wasn't just Daphne. It was the other students who are chattering nonsense. Talking about Quidditch. Talking about a brewing war between muggleborns and purebloods. Talking about a revolution and change. It was making him loose his temper. It was calling out to his rage and Harry wanted to let it loose on these children. He wanted to show them the power of the Void!

It was the threat of Dumbledore that stayed the Void.

"Are you alright Harry?" Daphne asked warily. He was wearing a murderous look on his face.

They went to the Great Hall for dinner and Daphne joined Harry at the Ravenclaw table. It didn't escape Harry's notice that three Slytherins, one Ravenclaw and two Gryffindors joined them and took positions around Daphne.

Harry, who was usually clueless about houses, thought that to be odd. Daphne was always alone. Now she had a group of people surrounding her and by default him. Like she was their leader. Many of them were glaring, as if daring him to try something.

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly at Daphne.

"A lot has happened since you were gone you know," she said seriously.

Harry shrugged. He didn't care. Suddenly, the empty bowls and serving plates began to glow red and orange and a moment later multiple cuisines appeared before them.

"Finally!" a boy with yellow blonde hair, sitting next to Daphne gasped. "I was dying of hunger."

Harry's stomach turned involuntarily. The food felt over cooked. He could sense the oils, the unnecessary flavours and boiled quality of everything around him. He had grown accustomed to eating almost raw. With a muted look of disgust, he carefully summoned the plate of steak towards him.

People gasped at his amazing feat of wandless magic and Harry didn't notice. He was remembering old habits. They came to him involuntarily and he found himself placing a piece of steak on his plate and neatly cutting it into tiny little pieces. It reminded him of the simpler times… the time he cut Aunt Petunia's throat.

He grinned, scaring the few people around him. His grins were freaky. Perhaps being back at Hogwarts wouldn't be as intolerable as he first assumed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After the feast Harry thought it be nice to go to the library. It had been long since he had been there and the allure of learning about the runes that be couldn't use was hypnotic. He also wanted to research about cores. It was all he was seeing after all.

"Harry. Wait up!"

It was Daphne again. This time without her new posse.

Harry gave her a once over. She had changed quite a bit from the last time he had seen her, he realised. She was taller for one thing. Taller than him as usual. She had filled out a bit, her robes showing some curves he had never noticed before. But most interesting was seeing her cores. She had a dull red, signifying her level of power and oddly insecurity. Her orange was normal, she liked her comforts. Her yellow was the strongest. It was radiating with power and screamed leader to him. Her green was dull and throbbing with hurt. Her blue was the same colour of her eyes. It was odd. Her blue and yellow were tied together. Power of vocation, Harry realised. She was becoming a leader. It made sense her yellow and blue were interlinked. Pity her red wasn't strong enough, he thought.

Daphne misunderstood his stare and blushed. "What!" she demanded, feeling a bit embarrassed. It was the first time Harry had looked at her like that.

Harry's eyes rose from her neck to her eyes and peered at her curiously. Then he blinked and started walking again.

Was Daphne happy Harry had returned? Yes. Was she feeling awkward having him back in her life? Hell Yes. She had grown used to not leaning on Harry as a crutch anymore. She had grown in stature and strength the Slytherin and had secretly built herself a group of students who were against Pureblood supremacy and all a government that ruled with power and justice more than politics.

Of course Daphne was well aware it was politics she was using to gather support. Her dream was to see all the purebloods kneel before her. Her plan had been meticulously worked out. She had to get Outstanding in three OWLS and NEWTS; Transfiguration, Wizarding Etiquettes and Wizard Law. The last two being electives only a rare few opted for in their fourth year. In the build up to her fourth year, she planned to gather the support of likeminded purebloods and halfbloods and justifiable angry muggleborns. Her age group was unsurprisingly unaware of what she was doing and in that Daphne was miles ahead of the curve. She was one of the few Slytherins who actually deserved being Slytherins.

Now, her progress had hit a speed bump with Harry's return. She had written him out of her plan and now she had to add him back in. He would make a powerful ally. He was famous, was insanely talented but certifiably insane. Not to mention she was used to following him around. Now, as a leader, she could not do that. She wanted to, just like old times, but she couldn't. Not without compromising her status. What could she do?

"Do you know what's going on in our world Harry?" she asked casually. She hoped she was being casual as they sat in the library and Harry meticulously began to surround himself with books. Oddly they were books on cultures and arcane magic.

"No," Harry responded absently.

"Well," she began nervously. "Turn out my attempt at revenge had far reaching consequences." Daphne knew all that had happened was partly her fault but she diverted all the guilt and blame on to the people who started it all. Greedy purebloods. "Lucius Malfoy survived as you might know and turned the blame onto muggleborns and werewolves."

Harry narrowed his eyes when the found a description of an Indian Sage and an image to accompany it.

"After that things kinda snowballed. A muggle born relationship office was set up by Minister Fudge to counter Malfoy's move to regulate and adopt muggleborns into the wizarding world from birth. A group of muggleborns got together and formed a muggleborn liberation front. The purebloods banded together to create a group of their own and over the past few months both groups have clashed a lot. Mostly in Diagon Alley and outside the ministry. Even the Goblins got involved and they have beefed up their security. Oh and a Basilisk was let loose in the castle before it was found and killed."

Harry grit his teeth. What was with people and their need for needless activities? Her words, explaining the politics of the world, grated on his nerves. What was with witches and wizards?

"You won't believe it but Malfoy convinced the Wizengamot to put Ginny Weasley on trial for letting the Basilisk loose in the castle," Daphne laughed. "Everyone knows it's a joke and the charges will never stick. It's obvious she was being controlled by a dark artefact created by the Dark Lord! But Lucius claims there's no proof. This are getting pretty crazy and even Hogwarts is beginning to split into two groups. You need to choose a side too Harry."

He could see her red and yellow pulsing. Her blue was shifting through colours. She was trying to manipulate him. He saw it now. One could physically fake sincerity or emotions but their cores gave them away.

The Void wrapped around Daphne like the cold touch of a snake. Daphne felt her body immobilise and fear filled her when she saw Harry looking at her with poisonous green eyes.

"What are you doing?" Harry said softly. His voice had an edge. Daphne realised a wrong word and she could end up dead! Panic struck her heart and she stuttered, "N-nothing! I'm just telling you what all you've missed out on!"

"You're lying," Harry whispered. The Void tightened its hold around her neck. "What are you doing!?"

"I want to all those fucking purebloods to kneel before me!" she gasped in alarm. Air was beginning to become difficult to access. "And I want you at my side!"

Harry frowned and then after a few seconds, let her go. She was telling the truth. A one sentence truth against a speech of nonsense was infinitely better.

Daphne's pretty face had contorted into a visage of hatred. It was an emotion Harry identified with. He let her go and Daphne inhaled deeply while rubbing her throat.

"Well?" she spat. He was definitely not the same boy she knew from last year. He had changed. He was darker, more perceptive and stronger.

Harry drummed his fingers on the table and looked at her with a small grin. "Do you know what the problem with this world is?" he asked softly.

"It's ruled by Purebloods?" Daphne guessed.

"Everyone is obsessed with the wrong kind of power. Political power. Power through games and status. This world has forgotten what magic is."

"So what are you going to do?" Daphne asked carefully. There was something odd about the way he was talking. His eyes looked glazed like he was picturing a dream.

"I think I'm going to remind them," he said softly. "Yes. Maybe the desert can decide who is worthy of magic and who isn't."

Daphne was confused. "What are you talking about Harry?"

Harry's grin broadened. "You best better work harder Daphne. Or else you might lose your chance to see those purebloods kneel before you."

Harry chuckled. What would the wizards do if they were left to survive in the desert? Would they rise to the occasion and survive or would they wither and die. He couldn't take them all to the desert. That was impossible. But maybe… just maybe… he could bring the desert to them.

The dream was becoming clearer. Magic had helped him survive. It had given him power and a means to destroy anything that attempted to hurt him. He hated the fact that all the wizards and witches he had meet used magic so frivolously. He wanted to teach them a lesson. He wanted them to realise the true power and nature of magic. Maybe the Desert would teach it to them.

Harry laughed softly and summoned the book on runes. He had research to do.

Beside him, Daphne slowly backed away. If she thought Harry was insane before, he was purely psychotic now!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **The next day.**

Harry was a wildcard. Daphne knew this. He was beyond the definition of powerful and when the time to graduate came Daphne knew Harry's path would be a defining moment for the magical world.

Daphne sighed. She was sitting in her dorm, in front of her mirror and undoing the knots in her hair carefully with her wand. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight that was streaming through the window overlooking the Black Lake.

Pansy and the others had already left for breakfast but she had stayed back to organise her thoughts.

Ambition burned within her heart. She was different from her fellow housemates. She couldn't wait to break free from the grasp of mandatory education and take up a mantle in the Ministry of Magic. A piece of parchment was stuck to the mirror, charmed to be readable only by her. On it was her checklist. The first three were checked.

 _Become friends with Muggleborns and Halfbloods._

 _Become their leader._

 _Incite hatred against purebloods._

 _Take the OWLS by the end of third year._

 _Gain recognition by the Ministry._

 _Intern at the Ministry in summer before Fourth year._

 _Begin preparations for NEWTS._

 _Graduate as the youngest ever student to do so._

 _Become popular with Witch Weekly and get a job in the office of Magical International Affairs._

 _Maneuverer my supporters into key positions in the Ministry._

 _Become the youngest ever Minister for Magic._

 _Bring the pureblood lords to their knees until they beg for forgiveness._

A dark smile graced her pretty face. Slowly she got up and got dressed for Defence against the Dark Arts. Even though she was disgusted by Gilderory Lockhart, she had an image to maintain as a perfect student. Hermione Granger was nothing compared to her. Perhaps the bookish Gryffindor was highly intelligent, she didn't have the same drive, beauty and popularity as she did. Even though she disliked the girl, Daphne recognised the fact that she would make a good recruit.

The name Greengrass was beginning to be heard again.

Daphne laughed. Her father would be proud.

Now she had just one problem to deal with. Harry Potter. She had feelings for him. She knew that. Even though he was crazy, he was the only person she had opened up a bit too and he was the only one who knew some of her darkest secrets.

He could sink her if he wanted to. But if he sided with her, she would become unstoppable.

Daphne stared at her checklist again and before she left, she picked up the quill and added another point.

 _Bring Harry Potter over to my side._

She changed the colour of the ink from black to red for that.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Eight May Nineteen Ninety Three; Quidditch Ground**

"Confundo," whispered Daphne, when another group of Hufflepuff supporters came to sit where she and Harry were seated. She had become very adept at using the confundus charm to confuse people. It was a very useful spell in her book. It was relatively harmless and got the job done. It, however, did not work on those whose minds were strong. Her magical power had to be greater for the spell to overcome such people.

An example was the tiny first year Ravenclaw who was sitting on the other side of Harry. She had pale blonde hair that unbelievably went all the way down to her ankles. It was messy and unbrushed in a way that had Daphne turning her nose up in disgust. Her wand was tucked behind her ear and she was sitting with her head resting in the palm of her hands supported by elbows on knees.

Her name was Luna something. People called her Looney. Normally this would not bother Daphne but for some reason Harry's attention was fully focused on her. He was actually staring at her! Staring at her with his mouth half open like he could not believe what he was seeing. It vexed Daphne to no end.

It had taken her over week to convince Harry to come and see the match with her. She took it as an opportunity to bond with Harry. Get him to talk and maybe cement their friendship a little deeper.

The Raven first year on the other hand, was staring at the Quidditch match with fascination, uncaring or unaware of Harry's attention on her.

"Are you listening Harry?" she asked impatiently. Here she was educating him on the political tussle between Dumbledore and Malfoy and what it meant for Hogwarts and Harry was not paying attention in the least. She knew he didn't care to know. But she took upon the task of keeping him update on the affairs of their world. If she didn't she knew her green eyed friend would get lost in that weird head of his. Honestly, his talks about deserts and showing everyone what magic was totally freaked her out. He was unhinged and she did her best to keep the lid on his nonsensical thoughts.

"Who is she?" Harry asked instead. The diminutive girl beside him was vibrant with colours. Her red was barely a spark but her violet and orange were incredibly active. To his amazement there was a seventh core in her magic. Right at the top of her head. It was white and kept appearing and disappearing. It was fascinating. He didn't have one and neither did anyone else. According to the books, the seventh core was that of enlightenment. Did this mean the girl was enlightened? In that case enlightened in what?

"I think her name's Luna," Daphne said disgruntled. "She's a weirdo if what I've heard is correct."

"And Cedric catches the snitch! Hufflepuff win by a whisker. 210 against 200!"

And that was it. Harry wondered what the point of it was. Wizards and witches on brooms, throwing balls at each other. He could see the magic in the balls and brooms and they were hardly significant. What purpose did the game serve?

"Well that was exciting," Daphne commented half-heartedly. She had hoped watching a Quidditch game might bring out some excitement in Harry, like all other boys but there was nothing. In fact the only thing she had managed to accomplish was getting him curious about a bint of a first year Raven.

"Excuse me," said the girl as the crowd began to shuffle out of the stadium. Her voice was musical and soft. A bit high pitched as would be expected of a young girl but it had an entrancing quality.

Harry moved aside and let her pass. His eyes lingering on her until she disappeared.

"Don't tell me you're into the young ones Harry," Daphne joked.

Harry didn't smile. He didn't get it and Daphne sighed. But then a brain wave struck her. If Harry was interested in the girl then would he spend more time with her if she brought Luna into her group? It was worth thinking about.

"Hey do you want to….?" Daphne had taken her eyes off Harry for a moment and he had disappeared. Tracey, who was seated behind them and cheering the Hufflepuffs throughout the game slapped Daphne on the back cheerfully.

"Potter give you the slip again huh," she chuckled as she guided Daphne out of the stadium.

Daphne glared at her redhead friend.

"You, know, people are beginning to suspect you fancy him."

Daphne turned red, "I do not!" she said hotly.

"You certainly try and spend as much time as possible with him when he doesn't bother to do the same."

"Tracey," Daphne began patiently. "Just imagine what a statement it would make if the boy who lived was on our side?"

Tracey shrugged. She didn't have the same thought process as Daphne. In fact no one thought and planned like Daphne. They, like all other twelve year olds, were more concerned with their marks and friends. They only wanted to have fun. Being around Daphne was fun and not to mention no one dared mess with the golden haired Slytherin. Also, she was popular. Girls envied her looks and hair. They envied the fact that she was friends with Harry Potter; the boy who snubbed and glared at anyone who dared approach him.

Tracey understood the magical world was undergoing a big change where rights for muggleborns was being fought for, but in school, it hardly made any difference to them. Sure the upper years seemed to duel each other in the name of it but it was more house rivalry than complicated politics. It was only Daphne who made it complicated.

Honestly, sometimes Tracey wished Daphne would just loosen up and have a little fun! She was always uptight and focused. She would pour over the Daily Prophet everyday like a maniac and had an ice cold glare for certain Slytherins in their year.

"Hey Trace!"

It was Blaise. Tracey noticed red creeping up Daphne neck and smirked. The half African half Italian boy did have that effect on girls. He was beyond dreamy and Tracey was glad to see Daphne show some signs of being effected like all the other girls.

"Blaise," she said brightly. "Enjoyed the match?"

"Brilliant," he said happily. "We're ten points ahead now. The house cup will be ours if we don't lose any points!"

"Excuse me," Daphne said suddenly. They had reached the great hall. With her back straight and looking like a princess herself, Daphne took a right instead of the left to the great hall and disappeared. Ever since Harry had returned, the time she spent with her group of friends had reduced.

"She looks upset," Blaise remarked. He had gotten good at looking beyond Daphne's mask.

"Potter," Tracey said with a roll of her eyes.

Blaise frowned. "What does she see in him anyway? The guy is a complete freak!"

A band of red clad students walked past them; the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Blaise couldn't help but pour salt in their wounds. "Looks like the lions got tamed… _again!"_

Tracey laughed and they were joined by a few upper years who joined Blaise in their jeering.

The Gryffindors glared and looked ready to pull out their wands but a few whispered words from the Weasley twins had them all backing down and retreating without a word.

Tracey sighed. "I guess we can expect a humiliating prank coming our way," she groaned.

"Meaningless in the face of victory!" Blaise crowed. The rest of the boys joined them in victory roars.

In that moment Tracey almost felt normal. This is how Hogwarts was supposed to be. But she couldn't help but glance at the spot where Daphne had disappeared. Why did she feel like her best friend was going to do her best to change it?


	18. Dead or Not

**Dead … or… Not**

 **Nineteen June nineteen ninety-three; Hogwarts Express.**

"Do you know where you're going to stay this summer?" Daphne asked Harry.

She had been curious about his home a couple of weeks back and managed to extract the fact that Harry was technically homeless. The revelation he had spent months in a desert was mind blowing. She hadn't believed him and he had shrugged in response leading Daphne to wrap her pretty head around the fact that it could very possibly be true! The boy was completely obsessed with deserts after what she had seen him constantly research in the library.

Daphne couldn't understand why he was pouring over texts and making notes on how to turn objects into sand. Transfiguration was what she had suggested to him when she was looking over his shoulder at the notes he was making.

Harry had given her dirty look like she had suggested eating shit. He was equally obsessed with runes as well, Daphne realised at that moment.

"Donno," Harry replied irritably. He was constantly pushing his hair out of his face. It had grown wild and fell all over his ears and eyes. He had never needed a haircut in his life and now after the desert his hair had grown and he didn't know how to make it short again. He made a note to do research on runes to shorten hair but hadn't gotten around to it. He had turned against using spells after his desert experience. He found them too weak, boring and simple. They lacked the mesmerising quality of using magic with runes. It had caused him quite a bit of trouble in classes where using spells was necessary. It had gotten him to make a visit to the headmaster where he was simply informed that if he didn't turn in assignments and did the necessary spell work, he would be issued a warning letter. Further disregard for the rules, he would be expelled.

Harry had scowled and complied. He felt it weird he cared enough for Hogwarts that he didn't want to be expelled. The emotion had confused him for weeks until he gave up and buried in that ever growing pit of unwanted emotions.

"You don't know?" Daphne said perplexed. "What do you mean you don't know? We are on a train Harry," she said exasperatedly. "Where are you going to go when we reach Kings Cross?! Please don't say the desert."

Why did she chatter so much, Harry thought with an internal scowl. "Dumbledore will be there at the station," Harry said, his voice soft and laced with venom.

Daphne didn't know if the venom was directed at her or Dumbledore.

She opened her mouth to offer him to stay at her place but his glare confirmed the venom was directed at her.

The compartment door opened and Tracey Davis walked in. She was accompanied by Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith.

"Hey Daphne!" Tracey said cheerfully. "Hey Harry."

Harry ignored everyone and tuned them out in favour of focusing on the book of Chakras he had found in the mystic section of the Library. According to Indian spirituality; there were seven chakras in a human body and Harry found them remarkably similar to what he was seeing and feeling with the colours.

"What a weirdo," Smith scoffed and took a seat next to Harry. "Hey Potter, stop being such a nerd will ya!"

"Err… Zac," Daphne said warily. She sensed the air of murder growing around Harry. She had been in Harry's presence long enough to know it. "Please don't talk to him."

"Why!"

"Because you'll regret it."

Zacharias balked. "What? He what will he do? Kill me?" he laughed. "Do you even know how to kill Potter?" he joked.

"Zac!" Daphne shouted in panic.

Harry was clutching the ends of his book.

Smith looked at her, surprised at the tone of her voice.

"Shut the fuck up or get the fuck out!" she growled furiously.

"Wha-?"

"I mean it! Another word and I kick you out!"

Zacharias quailed. Although he didn't understand why. Daphne however sighed in relief and turned to Susan.

Harry let the void go. He had been seconds away from crushing the moron's neck.

A moment later he wondered why he stopped. Ancient blue eyes flashed in his mind and he knew why.

Albus Dumbledore was becoming a huge inconvenience.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When the Hogwarts express reached Kings Cross and Harry disembarked he immediately saw Sirius waiting for him near the exit. Harry grimaced when he saw the man. He didn't want to see his parents. His green was acting weird and he didn't like it.

"Alright there Harry?" Sirius asked coolly.

Harry sensed a lot of anger in his red.

"Lord Black?" Daphne said in shock. Harry had forgotten she was still following him.

"Ms Greengrass," Sirius acknowledged.

Children began to pour out of the train and the noise and crowd began to grow.

"You didn't tell me you're staying with Sirius Black," Daphne said in surprise. Sirius Black was a famous man himself. Lord of a condemned family, a hero of the war and a victim of injustice. Daphne had seen him once in her father's office. Her dad had been the Blacks Wizengamot Law advisor for years.

Sirius arched his eyebrows in amusement.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend Harry," he said grinning.

Harry stared at him nonplussed and Daphne blushed.

"He's not!" she retorted.

"Is your mother here to pick you? I haven't seen her in years."

I'll be taking the floo," Daphne said.

Not many used it, but there was a floo-stop in platform nine and three quarters.

"Ok," Sirius said. "Alright then. Let's get going Harry. See you later Ms Greengrass."

"Bye Harry," Daphne said with a wave. As she expected, Harry didn't respond.

"He can be a total dick right?" Sirius said with a hollow laugh and turned to go after Harry and make sure he didn't wander.

Daphne just smiled feebly. It was going to be a long summer.

Meanwhile Sirius caught up with Harry and took a tight grip of his shoulder. Harry looked at him murderously. "I need to apparate us," Sirius retorted sharply.

Harry suppressed the void and just nodded stiffly.

A loud crack later, Harry found himself in a meadow that looked very familiar. It had been a year.

"Come on," Sirius said.

Harry followed. A warm breeze rolled past and Harry sighed in pleasure. He was being led into the forest and not towards the house. Harry didn't question it. He just didn't care enough to worry. Finding a place to sleep wasn't a problem at all. If Sirius hadn't shown up, he'd have probably gone to Janus. Or even back to the desert or even a forest, if one was nearby. Having a roof and food served to him was no longer an issue.

They stopped in front of a grave. On the tombstone was written:

 _Here lies Moony._

 _Friend and eternal Marauder._

Harry looked at Sirius questioningly.

"That werewolf whose heart you ripped out was my friend. I know it wasn't your fault and I don't blame you. You were only protecting yourself."

Harry stared at his godfather, unblinking.

"I just want you to pay your respect to the man. He died thinking he had to save you."

"From what?"

Sirius chuckled humourlessly.

"From you."

Sirius turned and left leaving Harry to turn back to the grave with a puzzled frown.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _Born as the seventh month ends. Power to defeat the dark lord…_

Harry didn't understand the prophecy very much except that he Dumbledore thought he had to kill some dark lord who had damaged his parents. It really didn't matter to him. He had a dream now he had a dream to see the magical world live in a desert and watch how they used magic to survive. He couldn't wait to see how they fared.

He giggled at the image of Dumbledore all shrivelled up, sweating and fighting a Troll. His eyes widened when another thought came to him.

Imagine if they had to survive against dangerous magical creatures as well. Wouldn't that be funny. He laughed in delight. The image was pure happiness.

"What are you laughing about?"

A curious voice cut in.

It was his father - James.

Harry scowled. The urge to kill the man burned in his fiercely. He was annoying, a baby and always poked his nose in his business.

A moment later Sirius came running along looking relived. "There you are buddy!"

"Ah crap!" James shouted and took off deeper into the forest downhill.

"You alright there Harry? Attempted any quick escape to a desert or far away mystical land?"

Harry scowled. He had in fact tried to apparate back to Hogwarts to get some books and unpleasantly found that there were wards blocking his exit from the area. Even trying to walk out didn't work. He inevitably found himself at different locations of the land around the cottage. It was a like a magical labyrinth that didn't let him out.

It made him angry but not mad enough to lash out with the Void.

"Fine," Harry muttered shortly. He gathered his books and decided to go back to the cottage.

If the insane twosome were playing outside, then the inside would be peaceful and quiet. Apart from the creepy shuffling feet of his mother of course.

She was in the living room when he entered. Randomly dragging her feet, dead eyes staring at nothing. No colours in her except for an aura of the palest of red that didn't deserve to even be called an aura.

Harry's green eyes traced her movements with a hollow feeling in his chest. Why was the green hurting? He was so detached with the green that it almost felt like a different piece of his soul. It felt like it was crying out in pain at seeing the lady in such a state.

Harry exhaled and his lips trembled.

Every time he saw her, he felt the same emotion from the green. It grew stronger with every moment and looking at Lily confused Harry like never before. Looking into her eyes made the green squeeze his heart.

He didn't like to see her like this. He hadn't felt like this the last time. The last time, she was just an oddity. Now she was an oddity that made his chest hurt.

In the warm atmosphere of the living room, where fire crackled in the hearth and a soulless woman creeped about, Harry raised a hand to his chest and gazed at the green.

"You don't deserve this," he said to her suddenly.

Lily didn't respond. She never did. She was dead. She was a human robot without a soul.

The green pulsed and Harry felt his eyes moisten.

This was confusing. It was too painful. He remembered the agony of having the green fully activated. It gave him an understanding of what was happening.

"Am I sad?" he whispered.

Lily shuffled past him aimlessly. Her hand brushed against his arm and Harry shivered. They were cold. The felt dead. She was his mother.

He turned around, cursing the green and the sage who made him this way.

"You don't deserve this," he repeated. His voice stronger and stranger.

Harry summoned the Void. He gently lifted her and placed her into one of the sofas. The Void began to rise and float towards her. There was a melancholy feel to it. What was about to happen was necessary and important to him.

"Rest," he said softly, not moving from his position and the Void wrapped itself over her nose and mouth like a barrier.

Harry felt the cold fingers of death hold his shoulder. The moment was intimate.

Seconds ticked by and her legs twitched. A minute was reached and hands and legs began to flail.

Harry remembered his Aunt.

The third minute was about to be reached when the body stopped jerking.

Killing his Aunt had filled him with pleasure.

Lily stopped moving. The faded red aura finally faded from the physical world. She was dead.

Killing his mother made him feel hollow.

He released the Void and stared into Green eyes, so similar to his. They had gone glassy.

He walked closer until he was close enough to touch her. He didn't make a sound. The Void hung around him with a heavy weight.

The room was silent as well. Magic went still. As if mourning the moment.

Harry lifted his arm and gently shut her eye lids.

"There," he said softly. "Now you're at peace."

He stared at her for a moment before walking to the opposite couch and seating himself. He then summoned his book on runes and his notes to continue reading like nothing had happened.

The cottage was quiet. Only the sound of crackling flames disturbed the silence.

"Perhaps the opposite of summoning water would work," Harry murmured to himself. "Moisture needs to be sucked out." He summoned another book which was a translation of runes. "Now where is that rune," he muttered.

Darkness fell outside and yet the living room felt darker.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	19. The Wand

**The Wand**

When Sirius returned and found Lily dead. He had immediately turned onto Harry with rage filled eyes.

"Did you do it!?" he screamed, his voice full of pain and accusation.

"No," Harry replied quietly, still in the same position except with the book of chakras on his lap instead of runes.

Sirius screamed with anguish that was uncharacteristic to him. Emotions that he had locked up for years with patience had broken loose.

It was the first time Harry had lied. The dull green had made him do it and he felt it appropriate. Ending the non-existent life of his mother felt personal. He didn't want to share that moment with anyone.

It was his alone. It meant something to him. A sense of closure to a part of his soul. Her death had calmed his green.

A heartbroken Sirius didn't see reason to doubt him. According to Dumbledore the boy didn't know how to lie. Early next day, her funeral was held. She was buried next to Remus.

Harry, Sirius, Dumbledore and a lady with a vulture hat were the only ones present.

James had been kept sedated and asleep. When he had seen Lily he had been to scream hysterically.

Harry wanted to kill him but Sirius had stunned and taken him away.

 _Here lies Lily Potter._

 _Loving Mother. Wife._

 _Best Friend._

This time. Harry didn't feel a thing. He only smiled; thinking about his runes and ideas for his desert dream.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Thirty First August, Nineteen ninety-three – Diagon Alley**

Time passed by in the cottage with an unsteady peace. Harry stayed out of Sirius's way. Sirius kept himself occupied with James. Dumbledore dropped by for the occasion visit and Harry finished his books. His head was fully consumed by basic runes, advanced runes, runic structures.

He experimented in the forest. Tried to recreate the language of magic in his diary. Filled it with notes and then began to fill another. By the time summer was over, Harry had successfully turned a boulder into sand using nothing but runes.

It was beautiful to watch.

He had drawn a structure that could easily be mistaken as geometry by a mathematician while in fact, it was an elaborate rune structure that was created after numerous trials and errors.

The boulder first began to change colour. The dark grey slowly turned pale. It almost became translucent before it started to look like it was being crushed into finer particles. A breath-taking moment later it collapsed into pale yellow sand. Beyond the runes, in an abyss apart from reality, magic that emoted no mercy whispered the process along.

Harry was delighted. It was a huge success! He could imagine the breakdown happening in Hogwarts and the vision was truly magnificent. Hogwarts, slowly turning pale and then collapsing into a mountain of sand. Harry felt glee at the thought.

But he calmed himself after the event. There was still so much to do. This had just turned a boulder into sand. The magic necessary to turn a world into sand…. Now that was the true dream.

Presently, Sirius had brought him to Diagon Alley to buy him his new books and robes. The school list had arrived a couple of weeks back and Sirius had finally made the time to take Harry to the Alley.

Harry had no interest in doing so but recognized the necessity of purchasing the school books. Maybe he could find some interesting texts on runes as well although he didn't care as long as he had his three books with him. One was about Indian Sages, the other a breakdown of runes and the best explanation out there and the last his personal diary: in which he wrote and created. In was a brown leather bound book with a strap serving as a lock. Harry had enchanted in with runes inscribed on the insides of the cover to ensure it never ran out of pages and remained at the thickness of a hundred-page notebook.

An hour later in the busy streets of Diagon Alley, Harry had had quite enough. The book stores had nothing that interested him. His school books had been purchased by Sirius and Harry felt repulsed to be in the Apothecary. The smell dissuaded him completely. Not to mention he found potions boring. Potions and Defence against the Dark Arts; they were the two subjects he disliked tremendously. They were utterly useless to him and his dreams.

Charms and transfiguration on the other hand; they were extremely useful in deciphering the language of magic through runes. Every spell was a short cut to summoning and reforming magic. They, in turn, helped him remake the runic form of the magic and understand the emotions of magic behind the spell. It was fascinating and helped move along his desert project.

"Last stop Ollivander," Sirius muttered. A visit was rarely necessary after a wizard turned eleven but a few days ago Harry had lost his wand. Sirius only found out a day before when he had begun to pack Harry's things.

A casual _got your wand_ query got _a I lost it_ response. Sirius had been shocked. How could Harry have lost his wand? No amounts of accios, point mes or manual hunting resulted in a positive search. The wand was lost until it was found. If Sirius had thought Harry capable of compassion, he would have searched near Lily's grave and found the phoenix wand fallen next to an overgrown weed. But he didn't and the wand was lost…. Until it was found.

Ollivander looks at Harry critically. Then he whispered in surprise, "You have lost the connection you had with your wand."

Harry shrugged. "It was of no use."

"Regardless," Sirius said with a scowl. "You need one for school."

"Curious… so very curious," Ollivander murmurs.

"Excuse me?" Sirius asked inquisitively. "What's so curious? He just lost his wand."

Ollivander looked at Sirius severely. "He hasn't just lost it Mr Black. He has lost connection with it at a deeply spiritual level. Such an event is rare. I wonder what could have happened to force this to occur."

Sirius frowned. "So…" he began slowly. "This is significant because…?"

"His magic has changed or…." Ollivander smiled mysteriously.

Sirius clenched his teeth. Was the man being annoying on purpose?

"Or his destiny has been rewoven."

An hour later an exhausted Sirius glared at a disgruntled Harry. They had tried wand after wand and found no matches. They either broke or provoked a violent reaction in magic. Nothing was suitable.

Ollivander instead of being happy in such a case was looking deeply troubled. The boy's magic was different. It was incredibly potent. No wand seemed capable of channelling it. In fact, he suspected no wand or staff could channel it.

"Come with me," Ollivander said at last, gesturing towards the back.

"To your workshop?" Sirius asked. "Are you going to make a custom made wand for him?" he added incredulously. Custom made wands were difficult to make for wand crafters and way too expensive for even the Most Ancient House of Black.

"Just you Mr Potter," Ollivander added helpfully as Sirius eagerly followed Harry.

Harry followed because he just wanted this done with. Apparently this was necessary for school so he supressed his mutinous desire to just turn around and walk away and resolved to get a new one and use it only when absolutely necessary.

Behind the wall of wands was a room that looked like a carpenter's workshop. There were muggle tools neatly stacked on a table that was placed at the corner of the surprisingly spacious room. Lying all around, standing up against every inch of wall available was hundreds of wood pieces, all of different kinds, and in various shapes and sizes.

Harry was almost blinded by the colours. Unlike wands which had a calm aura, these wood had a raw multi-faceted aura. Combined they felt like a wet mist pressing into him from all sides.

"As I suspected," Ollivander said softly. "You can see and feel magic."

Harry ignored the man. The colours of the wood were beginning to call out to different emotions in him. They were resonating in the Void. Some were calling out to him, some were screaming in protest. Others felt disappointed.

He was beginning to feel light headed.

"Calm," Ollivander whispered and suddenly the feelings retreated and the colours and auras died down to a faint glow.

Harry gasped in shock as he returned to normal.

"They are quite excitable aren't they?" Ollivander said with a small laugh. "It's been decades since another soul has entered this room."

Harry glared at the wood pieces. He didn't like the way he was overwhelmed.

"You can't possess a wand Mr Potter," Ollivander said, cutting to the chase. "No regular wand at least," he amended.

Harry smiled, looking relived. "Does this mean I get permission to not use a wand?"

Ollivander chuckled and shook his head in negative. "It means you need a different type of wand. One that is capable of channelling your magic. And in your case, I think I know the answer."

The wand maker beckoned Harry over to the table and directed him to sit on the only stool.

"Do you know why wands, in their core, have a piece of a magical creature?"

Was there a point to this? Harry wondered.

Ollivander continued like he hadn't expected an answer. "It's because they have a close connection to the source of magic."

Like runes, Harry thought. The language of magic.

"We can use magic, magical creatures however, are made of magic. To be more precise, they do not need a wand to channel magic. Their bodies are vibrant with it. That is why even a feather is enough to help a wizard or witch pull magic from their souls.

"You, Mr Potter, are such a wizard. You are somehow vibrant with magic. Not like magical creatures of course, but the similarity is remarkable. That is why your wand can only be a conductor. Wood is a natural specimen of magic and magic flows through it in abundance. Having a powerful core, wood is the only construct that can comprise and temper magic. Therefore, it is a perfect conductor for witches and wizards."

Harry listened. What the wand maker was saying held some interest to him.

Ollivander touched Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Harry tensed. He felt the Void simmer in agitation.

A moment later Ollivander removed his hand. He looked sad. Like he had seen something tragic.

He had not seen but felt.

" _Ténéré Tree_ ," he murmured. He then went to a corner and bustled around before pulling out a bark of wood, about a foot long and cracked with age.

"What?"

"This is a piece from a tree that was once considered the most isolated tree in the world," Ollivander explained softly. "It is the only wood I could find that resonated with your soul," he said sadly.

He shooed Harry out of the stool and reverently placed the bark on the table and with a hammer, began to crush it into dust.

Harry watched with interest.

"The wood of every wand is crafted differently. Some I carve, few I cut, and rarely, am I compelled to crush and remake." Ollivander chuckled. "You are a truly unique soul, Mr. Potter. I do not understand it, but it fascinates me."

With practiced ease he summoned a vial of something and poured the crystal clear liquid on the what was now sawdust.

He waved his wand in circles around the sawdust once it was mixed and looked like a weird paste. The paste began to swirl and begin to take shape.

"I remember expecting great things from you when I met you for the first time."

Ollivander slowed down his wand motion and the paste was beginning to take the shape of a gleaming wand that was dirty white.

"Now I know for sure fate has dangerous plans for you. Yes. I expect great things from you in the future Mr. Potter." When Ollivander said great, it felt like he meant terrible.

The wand was ready. It was a sturdy dull white wand that was fourteen inches long and thicker and sturdier than most wands. It had no core.

Ollivander tenderly lifted the newly crafted wand between his fingers and motioned Harry to take it.

Curious to see what would happen, Harry took it.

Nothing happened. Harry frowned. That was strange. He didn't even feel the Void reacting like it always did when he held a wand.

"How does it feel?" Ollivander asked.

"Like nothing," Harry said. As soon as he said it, he realized it.

Ollivander smiled as understanding dawned in Harry's green eyes.

The wand felt like nothing. Just like the Void. It was perfect.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **First September, Nineteen ninety-three. Great Hall of Hogwarts.**

For the first time, Harry had been directly taken to Hogwarts via portkey rather than the express. Harry found it strange that Sirius would do that but didn't question it. He really didn't care.

What mattered was he was finally back. Away from the rage inducing land that was Sirius's house.

They had exited through a floo room in Hogwarts that Harry had no idea even existed. The room had a fireplace and was otherwise empty and led out into the nearby corridor leading to the Great Hall.

Harry suspected it was there to prove a point. He got the feeling Hogwarts was very amused by the room. He didn't dwell on it and headed towards the Great Hall as that was standard procedure.

It was seven in the evening and Sirius had already left. Presumably to see the headmaster.

Harry entered the Hall and to his surprise found a few scattered students around. It seemed the Hogwarts express wasn't the only way all the students got to school. Seven thirty was the usual time when the feast began. Seven was the time the Express arrived.

He walked towards the Ravenclaw table where a burly older student was sitting grumpily and took his customary seat at the end of the table. There were mostly older students around, all looking bored out of their minds while they waited for the Express to arrive and their friends to return.

It didn't take long.

Harry meditated on his cores. His blue in particular. He had discovered during the summer, meditating on his blue helped ideas, when needed, to come faster. At the moment he was focusing on a unique problem in his project. He had turned a boulder into sand but drawing the rune on the boulder had taken hours. He wanted to see a world that was a desert. The hours needed to do that with his current method would be light years beyond astronomical.

How then to do it faster? Of course runes were the answer but which? And how to find it and realise it? Harry stroked his wand lovingly. Perhaps his new friend would help in his apocalyptic project. It was in his pocket and he couldn't seem to stop holding it, feeling it, revealing in its empty nature.

It was odd. The wand didn't do anything. The Void expelled out of his body, his hands, his eyes, his throat and passed through the wand if directed through said magical tool. It didn't feel magical at all except for the fact that channelling magic through it made Harry feel like smiling. Somehow, the wand was magical and it was touching his soul like a friend. It was magic he couldn't see and normally that would frustrate him. In this case he, with the curiosity of a child, would do his best to look for the colour of the wand, as if he expected to find it out of the blue.

The wand was something special. It was nothing like his old wand that, although held a lot of power, had no true connection with him. This wand held no power and yet felt like a part of him. Is this what Ollivander meant by the wand choosing the wizard? But Ollivander had made the wand for him. Did that technically mean the wand had chosen him?

Harry thoughts spun out of control.

If students hadn't begun to pour into the hall, Harry would have summoned the Void and probably done something beautiful to him and possibly terrible to the perspective of others. Just to attempt to see the colour of his wand.

The first years were welcomed, a song was sung and the feast begun.

Across the hall, watching Harry select and cut up medium rare steak into tiny pieces, Daphne smiled. Her summer had been incredible. It had begun mildly enough until a man had shown up at her doorstep. Daphne had been quite intimidated by the harsh lines in his face but when he introduced himself as the leader of a growing secret rebellion who had heard about her and wanted her to join them, she was stunned.

Then dangerous plans began to scheme themselves into existence as her mind processed the fact that she was asked to join a rebellion against the pureblood hegemony. If she played this right she had gifted a valuable source of power.

She had exclaimed in surprise a moment later and invited him inside. The man missed the dark shadow that moved behind her eyes.

Back in the present Daphne's eyes slid off Harry and around the great hall.; smirking at those happy faces that had no idea what chaos was about to descend upon them.


	20. Rebellion

**Rebellion**

 **Twenty ninth September, nineteen ninety-three - Caracus District; Town of Knockturn.**

It was a meeting held in one of the forgotten districts of Knockturn Town. A determined aura filled a hall of people. A stark contrast to the gloomy cloud that hung in an active courtyard of crooked brick houses.

Most of the homes houses muggleborn witches and wizards. Those maligned and cast away. Those without the talent and intelligence to make it up the ladder of success. Victims of pureblood supremacy.

They were looked down upon by half-blood criminals who populated the rest of the districts that stretched towards Knockturn Alley.

"No more," said a man with harsh lines etched in his face. He had hard brown eyes and dirty dark hair.

"No more," voices whispered back in union. Many of them were clutching their wands as they sat on the floor of a house whose ground floor partition walls were broken to create their meeting room.

Only the narrow stairway was left standing and midway on it, sat the leader of the rebellion. Wearing grey robes and his hood partly covering his face.

Silence descended. They were waiting for someone.

Some minutes later the door creaked open, letting a bit of the evening sun warm the room before it was shut.

A lady had entered. One look was all it took to know she didn't belong. The name of this lady was Emmeline Vance. She was wearing polished black heels almost hidden by her long emerald green cloak which was wrinkle green and snug. Her face was completely hidden by her hood.

"Do you have it?" asked the leader. His voice held hope.

"Nice to see you to Ted."

Ted glared. He was in no mood for games. "Well?"

"I got it."

The room exclaimed in joy and relief.

Vance pulled out a folder from within her robes and tossed it at Ted who snatched it out of the air.

He took a peek inside the folder and smiled. Vance had come through for them.

"We attack on Halloween," Ted said. His voice trembling with excitement. "Spread the word!"

Dozens of men and women left the meeting room in a hurry. A sense of approaching change pierced the gloomy district of muggleborns and squibs. People who were considered lower than trash in the eyes of their peers and government.

They had allowed their misery to fester. They worked in the most demeaning conditions and scrapped from the garage bins of those considered their superior in blood. They had accepted their life as a natural order of selection until the heard it. A muggleborn had suicide bombed Malfoy Manor as an act of revenge.

It shocked them and introduced a new emotion in their lives. A desire to fight back. A way to honour their brethren who sacrificed his life for them. The women said it was not a him but a her. They bantered only a woman would have the balls to do something like suicide bombing the home of the most powerful man in the Britain.

The men laughed in response to that. The light hearted argument had led to a few of them getting inspired to repeat the feat. The inspiration led to a desire for rights. They remembered their muggle lives as children. They remembered their desperate desire to be a part of the magical world and their horror at where they had ended up. None of them had to will to even return to the muggle world.

Their hearts ached and anger grew until a group of children were attacked. The anger transcended into righteous anger. Minister Fudge's transparent political move to make a relationship office for them only poured fuel on their burning wounds.

It took a suicide bombing and an attempt to put a halt on the rise of successful muggleborns for Minister Fudge to pretend to be sympathetic to their cause. And to make matters worse, he appointed the head of the most useless department in the ministry as the one to head it!

Their righteous anger turned into murderous rage.

The second time when inebriated young pureblood Hogwarts graduates poked fun and physically attack a group of squibs working the night shift. The workers reacted violently and were arrested while the young men were released after being held overnight.

Their rage turned towards rebellion. Secret meeting were held and single minded thoughts were spread. Potential allies were found and plans were drawn.

A rebellion was born.

And now, after all this time of unsuccessful guerrilla tactics, they had a chance to truly make a statement.

After the last man was out, Vance lowered her hood and smiled at Ted.

"I heard you've been making house calls."

Ted, stop up and walked towards Vance. He smiled tiredly and hugged her. "We have more allies that I could hope for. Turns out, a lot of noise has been buried under ministry boot. They weren't easy to find."

"I know," Vance said. There was disapproval in her voice. "What I want to talk about in particular was your unbelievable decision to go and approach a thirteen-year-old girl!" Vance finished with a shout.

Ted looked unperturbed. "From what I've heard about her from Hogwarts, she's going to make a very useful ally. She's young sure. Impressionable… yes. Harbours intense hatred towards purebloods… absolutely. In fact, if you look at the Auror report on the Malfoy explosion, you'll notice Daphne was one of the attendees of the party. It was odd that she was the only one, along with Harry Potter, who left early. Even if Snape was their minder, it was odd that they left that early."

"You're reaching Ted," she said dismissively. "You don't know what a nasty piece of work Snape is. I bet he forced them to leave."

Vance didn't know it of course but she was party correct.

Ted sighed. He knew his conclusion was far beyond farfetched. But there was something about that girl. Something that told him apart from being a pureblood who was ostracised, the girl was out for vengeance. It was her eyes. They looked like they had seen revenge up close and hadn't felt their void filled. He had seen many such eyes. She was one in an ocean. But was she vicious enough to plan such an attack? She was too mature for her age. He saw that from the moment he observed her leaving Kings Cross via the floo. He had been watching her for a while before approaching her.

"Maybe," he muttered. "Anyway. It was a risk that paid off. Her mother had needed some convincing and Daphne took care of that quite efficiently. With the Greengrass widow on our side, we can now push for muggleborn seats on the Wizengamot."

"What you plan on doing is going to make that point moot," Vance pointed out.

Ted smiled. "Our voice will be heard Emmeline. We will change this world for the better."

Vance looked at him through aging grey eyes. "I hope everything works out for the best," she said and turned to leave, her job done.

"Will you be joining us on Halloween?"

"No," Vance replied. "I can't be seen in public with your people yet." And then she left.

The sun had set and the cold seeped into her bones. She shivered and quickly apparated.

She reappeared far away, at the edge of the village of Hogsmeade and with practised steps made her way to the Three Broomsticks. She sighed in pleasure when she entered the warm pub and was welcomed by the regulars.

Vance greeted them and made her way to the bar table where Albus Dumbledore waited for her.

She took a seat next to him and greeted Rosmerta with a bright smile. "Ogdens finest for me today Rosie!" she said cheerfully.

"So? How did it go?"

"Halloween," was all Vance said.

Dumbledore sighed. He could see it closer than ever now. The red clouds of war scorching the skies of his world.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Seventh October Nineteen ninety-three - Hogwarts**

The students were thrilled with their new defence against the dark arts and it showed. Hilarious spells whizzed around in corridors. Crazy hair care spells spread among the female population. Boys felt the need to impress her.

It would suffice to say, former head girl Tonks; now the defence against the dark arts teacher, was an incredible witch!

The Hufflepuffs called her the saviour of Hogwarts and no one disputed the fact apart from the sect of pureblood and certain halfblood students. They hated her. Professor Tonks was quite vocal about her pro muggleborn ideals. Her coming to Hogwarts felt like a calculated move to them and they weren't wrong.

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were having a class with her and there was a tension in the air.

"How many of you have heard of Boggarts?" she asked. She was wearing a muggle suit instead of her robes. Her hair was black today and her features were sharp. She was projecting the image of a teacher.

Few of the Slytherins sneered at her choice of clothing.

"They're demons," squeaked Lisa Turpin. Her mother had told her the stories. Creatures of the dark, that prayed on your deepest fears.

"Not quite," Tonks laughed. "They're just these shapeless sentient creatures that are so afraid of us that they pretend to be what we fear the most."

No one laughed.

"Really!" Tonks insisted with a grin at the disbelieving faces. "Do you know the spell to defeat them? It called Riddikulus. The clues in the spell kids."

Behind her a cupboard rattled.

"You… you have a boggart in this room?!" Pansy whispered in horror.

Tonks eyes gleamed. "That's right. I'm going to show you how easy it is to defeat them."

Chairs slid backwards when Tonks moved towards the cupboard.

"I'm going to need a volunteer," she said. Her eyes darted across the room before coming upon a boy who was staring out the window with a bored expression. Her eyes narrowed. Dumbledore had told her to keep an eye on him.

"How about you Harry?"

Harry turned his head slowly and stared at the professor unblinking. Then with a shrug he got up and walked over to her side.

"Now, when I open this door, the boggart is going to take the shape of what you fear most," Tonks warned. "All you need to do is point your wand at it and say riddikulus! Can you do that?"

Harry scowled. Tonks took that as a yes.

Tonks waved her wand and the lock opened with a click. The door creaked open and a gulp of fear was heard from the rest of the class. Those from wizarding families knew how scary boggarts could be.

Tonks took a step back, curious to know what it was that Harry feared.

The door opened wide and something feel to the floor with a wet splat.

Harry froze.

It was a healthy beating heart. He could see the powerful green around it. His own green began to resonate with it causing alien feelings to flood his nerves.

Tonks grimaced at the sight of the bloody, slimy heart and the rest of the class gasped. Some covered their mouths to hold their regurgitating breakfast in.

"Say the spell Harry!" Tonks urged when she noticed the stunned look on Harry face.

"Riddikulus!" Harry whispered, snapping out of his shock. He felt the Void twist inside him, reform into the desire to turn the boggart into something amusing.

The heart popped and flew around the room like a rapidly deflating balloon before Tonks pointed her wand at it and guided it back to the cupboard and locked it in.

"See how easy that was!" she cheered. "Thank Harry. You can go back now. Now, everyone, form a line. I'm going to show you how to banish it forever."

Harry glared at the cupboard. Boggarts, he realised, could be dangerous.


	21. The Power of a Voice

**The Power of a Voice**

 **Thirteenth October Nineteen ninety-three – Hogwarts Library**

 _Mediocrity will never understand excellence._ Words Daphne's father had said to her one day when he was working on case. Observing Harry research, she was reminded of those words.

He was beyond anyone's understanding. A seventh year had walked past them in the restricted section and a short glance at Harry's notes had made her gasp.

Harry had glared poisonously at her when she peeked into his diary. She had squeaked and hurried away. Daphne found it amusing Harry's glare could scare even seventeen year old's. She hurried after the seventh year Hufflepuff and cornered her to get an understanding of what Harry was researching. It all looked like complicated squiggles to her.

Runes that amplify runic structures, she was told. A NEWT level project. And the seventh year had also said she didn't even recognise half the structures in his notes. Ancient rune students were given predetermined runic structures with the task to explain them in exams. What Harry was doing was making his own. The seventh year was amazed and said she couldn't wait to tell Professor Babbling.

Alarm bells went off in Daphne's head. Harry was hers! " _Confundo!"_

The seventh year never saw it coming.

"Absolutely," Daphne laughed. "He's just begun opening the rune books and would love to take up the elective!"

"Huh? I thought?"

"That's right," Daphne continued with a big bright trust me smile. "I'll be sure to ask him to talk with Professor Babbling."

"Oh. Ok. See you…. ….?"

"It's Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass."

The seventh year suddenly realised she talking to a third year. She frowned, then smiled awkwardly. "Well see you around kid."

Daphne scowled at the girl's back when she left. "Kid? Bitch didn't even realise I confounded her." She didn't recognize the girl and that meant she was insignificant.

When she returned to their table, Harry was gone.

"Crap," Daphne muttered. Her dad might have said understanding excellence was impossible unless you were there at that level. What Daphne felt he failed to mention was excellence was also accompanied by the jerk syndrome in collaboration with the psycho gene.

She sat down at the table with a sigh and opened her own notes. She had assignments to submit and day by day, time was becoming a luxury she couldn't afford. Not with her plans. Not with her dreams.

.

.

.

Harry hadn't left to escape from Daphne. He had simply gone down to the forest to experiment. Nobody was there to stop him going from to the forest at night. The one time Filch had caught him, Harry got the opportunity to try out his runic version of the memory charm. He had held Filch in place with the void and wrapped it around his mouth when he started screaming for help. Then he used a pen to draw the rune structure on the man's forehead and then pushed the void through, activating it.

Filch had passed out immediately and Harry wasn't quite sure if he was successful. Yes, the man forgot him but Harry wasn't sure how much memory he had erased. There was no change in his behaviour. He was surly and annoying as ever.

Harry put it out of his mind. He had greater things to focus on.

The main doors had a charm to alert the gamekeeper if they opened after curfew and Harry could see the magic in it. Instead he walked along the corridor parallel to it and stopped at the second window. He pulled at the latch instead of pushing to open it. Stone grated against stone as a part of the wall began to rotate giving him a way out close to the forest.

Cool air splashed on him and Harry shivered in pleasure. Being outside the castle felt like freedom. Away from the stifling environment of a closed minded society.

The moon was in one of its funny phases casting gentle yellow light down on the black lake and over the tall trees that marked the forbidden forest.

Harry inhaled the fresh air and walked towards the forest.

His feet rustled against the manicured lawns until the grass began to grow and undulations beneath his feet became more unsteady. He walked until the looming trees towered over him like angry beasts.

Harry smiled. He almost felt welcome as he stepped over a particularly thick root and entered the forbidden forest.

Almost immediately the atmosphere changed and the magic in the air thickened. It pressed on him from all sides, radiating warning and danger. Urging him to flee from the forest.

Harry shivered in delight. He missed surviving in the desert and the nature of the forest brought back his senses of survival.

The Void sharpened, becoming alert and hostile. Harry drew his wand and slowly moved through the forest. His eyes were glowing with magic. He was watching the movement of magic through the forest, looking for threats and the path to the clearing where he practiced.

The forest was bathed in the colours of red, green, violet and moonlight.

A movement towards his left alerted Harry and the Void immediately sprung out of his wand, reforming into the shape of a sharp sword and when Harry pushed more magic through, a seven-foot tall and foot wide steel sword materialised and pierced through the body of something big, black and hairy.

The creature screeching in pain as it was skewered and pinned on a tree trunk by a giant sword.

Harry cautiously observed the creature. It was an Acromantula. One of the big ones. He giggled when it struggled to get free. It's many legs twitching and dozen eyes, darting around in panic.

Harry opened the face of his left hand and the sword was yanked free.

The Acromantula fell with a thud and let out another screech of pain and anger as it tried to attack Harry in desperation.

Green eyes glowed predatorily and the sword was raised high and allowed to fall onto the head of the creature.

The sword cleaved its head like a melon and dug itself a foot into the ground.

The Acromantula twitched for a few more seconds before going still. It was dead.

Harry laughed and turned the sword back into the void by releasing the compressed magic. The magic of the forest swirled. With every creature he killed, he felt like the forest was changing. It was beginning to create an aura of danger around _him._ Instead of warning and pushing him away, it was slowly adapting and warning other magical creatures to flee from him. Those that could not stand up to him at any rate.

"That was fun," he giggled and continued deeper into his home away from home.

He wondered where the more dangerous creatures were and what were they? Where were the beasts the forest felt were greater than him? If Acromantula were all there was to the threat of the forbidden forest, then Harry was going to be severely disappointed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Thirty first October nineteen ninety-three – Hogwarts Great Hall**

It sent whispers through a hundred ears all at once. The noise was a low buzz of excitement that sent their pulses through the roof. Anticipation of an explosive unknown made them tense with the exhilaration of imagining it.

Three Gryffindors. Two Hufflepuffs. Four Ravenclaws. Nine students sitting at the Slytherin table around the tenth. Nine pairs of eyes stared back with defiance at the rest of the hall and the tenth sat with smug satisfaction and importance.

Daphne Greengrass had officially done it. She had stunned a united Hogwarts.

The mind bender was the sight of the resident genius muggleborn of Hogwarts: Hermione Granger sitting to Daphne's right.

They felt silent. Letting their eyes do the talking. Letting the world know they alone were untied towards a better future. They were daring others to join them.

The power of inspiration breezed through the great hall and Daphne Greengrass was right at the middle of it.

Few minutes had to pass before eye contact was broken and the atmosphere changed to a charged state of gossip and theories.

The ten students turned to meet each other's eyes with a sense of accomplishment.

The Halloween feast had begun with a powerful statement.

Harry Potter was indifferent to it all. His mind was computing thoughts far beyond the imagination of the rest of the population of minds. He, instead, was watching how powerful Daphne's yellow had become. It spread all around her like a sky of yellow. It wrapped around those beside her like clouds, unconsciously interacting and influencing their green and orange. They felt visible. They felt good. They liked what Daphne said.

Harry smiled when he saw many reds flare up with hate around her. Those Slytherins were projecting their rage. They wanted to kill her. Yellow and Red seemed to clash quite often between people, Harry mused.

He kept watching Daphne and after a few minutes her yellow began to disappear as she began to converse with those around her. Her yellow, red and green flickered constantly. Whatever she was talking about was manipulating the hearts of those around her.

Harry giggled when he realised something. Anyone who becomes the voice of reason is a manipulator. He saw Dumbledore in Daphne. His giggle became a chuckle when he imagined telling Daphne his dream. He imagined it would destroy her own. Wouldn't that be a wondrous sight! He thought with amusement.

Around him his housemates resolved to leave another column of seats empty beside Harry next time. This year he seemed more unbalanced than ever and his unexpected bursts of giggles was beginning to terrify them.

At the Slytherin Daphne was holding court. Five Slytherins have moved to join their group and were deep in discussion with Daphne and her friends.

"I am a pureblood," Daphne was saying. "And I can confidently say intelligence is what truly matters. I have seen both worlds and the speed of our development pales in comparison. Change needs to come if our world has to progress as far as muggles in terms of standard of living. The archaic laws of the Wizengamot must be changed!"

Apart from a few older students who actually understood her, everyone blindly accepted her words as the truth. They sounded true enough. Their knowledge of laws, muggle technology, philosophy was severely lacking.

Daphne had done her homework well.

Her friends murmured in agreement around her. Tracey, Blaise, Pucey, Moon and Derrick had joined them.

"We need smart, open minded and talented wizards running our government. Minds like muggleborns who can uniquely contribute to our society."

"A society which purebloods have built," Pucey said sharply. His eyes were burning with anger.

"And have let it stagnate and rot," Daphne threw back passionately. "I would know. I am one!" She was painting her as the pureblood revolutionist. Deep in her mind she wondered if Ted would hear about this. She wondered if they would succeed tonight.

The debate turned heated as more participates began to join in.

At the head table, the events happening around the Slytherin table did not escape their notice. "Oh this is going to cause trouble," Flitwick squeaked and then promptly fell of his high chair. "Bold," muttered Snape eying the children with an evil eye. "Incredible," Tonks said in awe. She hadn't been gone from Hogwarts long to understate what the magnitude of the event before was.

"Remind you of someone?" McGonagall breathed in shock. She remembered a similar event deep in her past. It was an event that had sent stunned the foundation of Hogwarts. A presumed muggleborn was made prefect and accepted as the leader and voice of the Slytherin house. Tom Riddle had incredible charisma and Daphne was turning out to be a close second in her own way. Where she passionately spoke, all Tom had to do was smile.

"All too vividly," Dumbledore murmured with interest. "Ms Greengrass has certainly made great strides in her personal growth. She's top of her year as well isn't she?"

"One of the top," McGonagall corrected. "Ms Granger joins her there."

Daphne was being noticed. Her name was beginning to revolve around an ideal.

"What about Harry?" he asked curiously.

McGonagall snorted. "He hasn't submitted a single assignment back in till date. With the way he's going it'll be a miracle if he scores enough on his finals to pass to next year. If it weren't for the exams being canceled last year, which I must say again was a terrible idea, Potter wouldn't be sitting in third year classes."

"He'll do enough to pass his exams. His spell work I hear is phenomenal," Dumbledore said. His eyes settled on the dark haired psychopath and wondered if it would be a good idea to attempt legilimency. He wasn't sure if Harry's unique magic would detect it and wasn't ready to risk it.

McGonagall sniffed. "Doesn't mean he skips doing assignments! Even detentions don't have any affect on him. He does them without complaint! Talk to him Albus," she said exasperatedly.

"Expel him," Snape interjected, adding his own two thoughts.

Dumbledore chuckled. "If he weren't doing his detentions I would. He hasn't actually crossed the line to be sent to my office." Dumbledore felt amused. "Anyway. Let us move on and enjoy the feast! The elves have truly outdone them this year."

"Hear, hear!" roared Hagrid heartily.

The feast had moved on from the shocking event to enjoying the magical decorations, mouth watering food and the holiday spirit. Ghosts attempted to scare children and received only hysterical laughter in return. Uplifting stories and jokes were shared that had Hogwarts brimming with joy.

It was in this eternal moment that the silver mist of a patronus ghosted past Dumbledore's ear.

 _"It's happening,"_ a female voice whispered in his mind. _"They've broken into the Ministry."_


	22. Victoria

**Victoria**

 **Thirty first October Nineteen ninety-three. Eight PM – Ministry for Magic**

Emmeline Vance was an unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry for Magic. She had served under the banner of the department for the better part of five decades and fifteen years in that, she had raised the banner of the Order of the Phoenix in secret. She was Dumbledore's greatest spy.

Emmeline Vance had an eye in every part of magical Britain. Nothing escaped her notice for more than two weeks. That was all the time nothing had to hide.

During the rise of the Knights of Walpurgis, led by Dark Lord Voldemort, Emmeline Vance was the shadow cast by the great and revered bastion of good: Albus Dumbledore.

To the rest of those who knew about her, including the members of the Order of the Phoenix, she was simply Unspeakable Vance. In charge of cataloging the hall of prophecies.

Tonight. She sat in her office. Signing off memos to the department, authenticating prophecies. Waiting for the executioner of war to drop the guillotine on an unprepared world.

When she felt the slight tremor of magic only experienced wizards would feel, she sighed. "Good luck Ted," she whispered and then drew her wand summoned forth her patronus. "To Dumbledore," she told it softly. "It's happening. They've broken into the Ministry."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Thirty first October Nineteen ninety-three. Seven Forty-Five PM – Muggle underground train station.**

"We're about to cross a line," Ted said. He didn't bother to keep his voice down. The underground was noisy enough. "But these desperate times call for desperate measures. This is for our freedom."

They were about nine of them, all dressed in black robes with their faces, hooded and obscured.

Muggles passing by didn't give them a second glance thanks to the muggle repelling wards around the secret back door to the Ministry. It was meant for the Minister for Magic to exit the Ministry unnoticed.

One of the men was holding a bag that looked like it weighed quite a bit. He was the shortest among them and it was noticeable that he was tense.

"This needs to be done. It can't go on any longer."

Whispers of agreement echoed around him.

Ted took a deep breath and faced the uninspiring grey wall. " _Omelette_ ," he said clearly and immediately a crack appeared in the shade of a door in the wall. Dust bellowed out and it opened slowly, stone grating against stone.

Ted tried not to roll his eyes at Fudge's idea of a password.

He focused on the task at hand and quietly stepped into the barely visible corridor inside. Stepped in and found himself near the niche in the back of the Auror Office next to Director Bone's office.

Immediately he ghosted across the floor and hid behind one of the many desks in the large room.

He signalled his companions to do the same.

The Aurors closed office and six pm but there was still a chance of hard workers at work. They had debated when to initiate the attack and had decided to hit when the Ministry was almost fully closed for the day.

They wanted an audience and they didn't want to get caught.

Rubber soled feet ran through the office towards the exit.

A red robed Auror, on emergency floo duty, entered the office with a yawn on his face. He noticed nine black robes rush at him and his eyes widened, yawn caught midway. His arm shot to his waist where his wand was holstered and was too slow.

A quick stupefy dropped him to the floor, temporarily dead to the world. The nine didn't stop. They knew their way around the Ministry. They had been janitors there at some point of their life.

They stunned four more wizards and a witch as they bulldozed their way to the Atrium.

The atrium had more than a dozen people. Some were talking and some were moving towards the floo.

All of them froze in shock when the hooded black figures rushed into the Atrium with their wands raised.

A woman screamed and two floos flashed green as some tried to escape what was identifiable as an attack on the Ministry by hooded dark wizards.

"Stun them," Ted shouted and red flashed in the Atrium. Five Junior Aurors on security duty also fell to the surprise and mind boggling attack. The Ministry had wards that rivalled those at Hogwarts. Who were these people and how did they break in?!

"Hurry!" Ted urged. Two had escaped. Their element of surprise was going to be lost soon.

Nine wands pointed at the famous Fountain of Magical Brethren. The inspiring visage of the bonds of peace depicted by the golden figures of a wizard, witch, centaur, goblin, and a house-elf. The centaur, the goblin and the house-elf were looking up adoringly at the noble expressioned witch and wizard. It portrayed Man and Woman has the heroes who united the magical world together.

It was a gross lie about the reality of their world!

Bombarda!" they shouted in unison.

The monument exploded into a fountain of dust.

"Cattermole. Quick!"

The short wizard opened his bag with trembling hands and removed a statue. It was about two feet high and half a foot wide. Cattermole placed it in the centre of the destroyed space.

Ted then gestured and everyone to step back and focused on Vance's instructions. He began to mutter under his breath and move his wand through elaborate motions. Yellow mist began to pour out of his wand and slowly surround the statue.

A shrill whistling sound began to pierce through the tense silence of the Ministry.

"The alarms been triggered!" Cattermole gasped. "The Aurors will be coming soon!"

Ted concentrated. Sweat was forming on his forehead. He didn't let his focus falter. Forty-five seconds later he stepped back with a gasp and the statue began to grow.

A breath-taking moment later in place of the fountain was a ten feet, pure white marble statue of a woman standing on an uneven marble pedestal that seemed to resemble thousands of black tombstones. She was a young woman, wearing an expression of anguish and she was holding up a sign board, that in bold red letters had the words

 _No more discrimination!_

 _No more subjugation!_

Her white marble robes were in tatters and captioned across her torso in angry red font was a capital lettered word.

 **MUGGLEBORN!**

The entire statue was pure white and except for the words. They were blood red.

Around the same time, Daphne Greengrass was doing her devious part in Hogwarts. Ted was not aware of it. Daphne's so called friends were not aware of it. Daphne was in the unique position of holding all the cards. It remained to be seen if the events would be tied up in the future like Daphne hoped they would.

The rebellion was not going to initiate violent physical confrontations. They were going to infect the magical world with a message. They dreamt of changing the foundations of the Wizarding World. Halloween Nineteen ninety-three was going to be remembered for years.

"Let's get out of here," Ted said wearing a victorious smile. He couldn't wait for the Ministry to try and remove the statue. Vance had promised the man who had enchanted it was confident it was indestructible and unmovable once the enchantment was activated.

Nine black clad men ran towards the floo just as the cracks of apparition began to resound through the Atrium and shouts begin to get louder. They were gone just as the first spell of retaliation was cast.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **First November Nineteen Ninety-Three: Hogwarts – Dungeons**

The world around Harry progressed with the same haze it always had - Gossip, sports, which boy likes which girl, civil war, blood feuds, deaths, names, politics, manipulators, classes, detentions – all of it was a blurred and unrecognizable mess to Harry. All he saw was an entire world, sitting on the white sands of pure power and instead of digging into it, they sat and soiled it. A spike of rage pierced through the Void as he sat through another insufferable potions class.

"Is something wrong Mr Potter?" Snape asked silkily.

The professor's voice crawled through the void like an insect with too many legs.

"No Professor Snape," Harry said softly, his eyes unblinking as their stared into obsidian black.

Snape's eyes slid down to the yellow potion that was the correct shade of limestone and with a worthy sneer, he stalked towards Susan Bones.

Harry scowled at the man's back. There was something about the colour of his red and green that made him want to tear his heart out and bury it next to the werewolf. When the man spoke, Harry wished language had never been discovered and they were all just mindless herbivores.

Snape drew on Harry's hatred like water through a straw. Ever since he could see colours of magic, there was always something about Snape's colours that rubbed him the wrong way.

Suddenly a thought stream previously in the background over rode his general mental discussions while he was stirring his Draught of Healing. Prior to coming to Potions he was trying to make paragraphs out of the language of magic and was getting nowhere. It was leading him towards reaching for books on Enchantment. Maybe they would hold the clue to learning magic's language like a babe could learn his mother's language.

Snape had motivated him to look a clue with his nerve grating voice.

Magic is a language spoken with runes, he thought. English is a language spoken with alphabets. If magic has a source, then that implied language has a source. But language was created by humans. Was magic created by humans? Language could bridge gaps in communication. It could be learnt. By aliens if need be, Harry thought in brief amusement. So did that imply magic was created by aliens and they could learn to use it?

His brain paused for a moment and Harry felt like he was heading into the realm of idiots and stopped that train of thought and focused on the important threads of ideas.

He continued stirring the potion without his facial expressions changing. Sweat formed on his brow from the heat of all the smoke hanging below the ceiling.

 _The source of language was the need to communicate. Magic was a language on another level. It was not the need to communicate. It was the need to perform miracles. Therefore, from the above argument I could reason that the source of the need to communicate is the blue which is responsible for knowledge and the green which makes people want to connect with each other. And following that line of thought, we can make the hypotheses the source of magic, the need to perform miracles to be, the need to understand things beyond our understanding…_

 _._

 _._

 _…._

Harry froze. Suddenly the curtain of mystery around the white was lifted. The white, the source of magic, the goal of the Indian sage, the strangeness of Luna Lovegood – the source of magic was the white!

With the lightning strike of comprehension to his mind, Harry suddenly felt something uncoil at the base of his spine. He gasped. It felt like a fiery snake had awoken deep in his magic and was rushing up his spine. It came up to the top of his spine and harry felt a burst in the void.

A few seconds later the feeling cooled and Harry was panting. He had stopped stirring and was holding the edge of the table, bent over, knuckles white and breath a shudder.

"Hey. You okay Potter? Potter?" Susan Bones asked. She had seen Harry suddenly double over and grew concerned. She was tempted to call Snape but the man was busy tearing into Hannah.

Harry didn't hear her. He closed his eyes and took a slow and deep breath of control. He stood back straight a moment later and when he opened his eyes, they widened in surprise and wonder. There was a clarity in the void he had never seen before. He could see something invisible filling the space all around him, touching everything he could see, sinking into the living from the top of their heads. The same invisible touched him on the head, briefly activating the white and sinking into his colours like two strands of power entwined, right down to the red where it again began a swirling upward journey.

A smile slowly stretched the corner of his lips. His emerald eyes darkened with glee and mad laughter bubbled in his throat.

Susan felt something sinister.

Harry had found the source.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifteen November Nineteen Ninety-Three: Hogwarts – Slytherin Girls Dormitory**

Everyone was waiting for it. Since the news had broken out, all of Magical Britain was waiting for her version of the truth.

Rita Skeeter had made them wait sufficiently long. The title was ominous enough.

 **DAWN OF CIVIL WAR?!**

Daphne sat cross-legged on her bed, in pyjamas, covered under her sheets. It was past midnight and she and her dorm mates had gossiped about the article long enough. The rest of the school had had a cataclysm throughout the day.

Her wand lay beside her casting a warm yellow glow under the covers giving Daphne enough light to devour the article.

Her fingers traced her favourite sentence. _Was Hogwarts a part of the plan? Were the actions of Daphne Greengrass timed to perfect the message of the freedom fighters?!_

Daphne laughed softly. She had timed it to perfection. She had put herself on the map. Her laugh was bitter sweet. Rita had also painted the tragedy of her family in the article as well. Daphne didn't know how to feel about that. She no longer felt the pain of being a victim. She didn't know if that was a good thing or sad.

Her cold eyes glazed through the details with vivid clarity.

 _Lord Marcus Greengrass, the champion lawyer who represented innocent victims and famous names died painfully and slowly surrounded by mysterious circumstances. No one was implicated and after his death his old cases were reopened and torn apart with new Wizengamot regulations. Convicted men walked free and his money was siphoned from the Goblins with careful precision leaving his wife and two children almost penniless and at the mercy of wronged Pureblood Lords._

Daphne's heart felt the squeeze of rage. She hoped Astoria would not read the article. Her sister had been carefully protected by her and her mother. She was going to ensure no one dared to talk about it in school after today. Those who did, she would make sure they'd suffer!

Hatred coiled through her blood and her desire- to see those who destroyed her family be reduced to a state of begging - grew fierce.

 **Hogwarts – Headmaster's office**

When Dumbledore first saw the shock on the students faces when the read the news, he felt his heart hurt. There were many who began to buzz in excitement and a few who wore stoic expressions. They were the older student population who were products of the first war that ravaged Magical Britain. Harry was not the only one though he was one of the youngest.

He pulled his mind away from Memory Lane before he got lost down its twisting path in to dark and refocused on the Skeeter's article. The woman had done her research and produced the first article that was armed with information dripped in her acid tongue.

He glanced through the description of the statue and smiled.

When Emmeline had asked him to enchant it to be unmovable and indestructible he had wondered where the rebellion would possibly display it. He had never considered Emmeline would direct them into the heart of the Ministry! Of course if he had made in unmovable then, they wouldn't have been take it so he had modified the enchantment to allow them to carry it around and activate the enchantments with a nifty spell string.

Dumbleore had been feeling a little extra creative that day so he had also added a noticeable enchantment on the statue as well. People who passed by it would be compelled to look at it. To feel the sadness of it. To empathise with the cause of the Rebellion; the cause being 'equal right'. It was meant to motivate the Rebellion and those who wished to be a part of them. Instead they had changed it into a symbol of slavery and an ode to Civil War. No amount of covering it with sheets or hiding it behind walls would work. The enchantment would not allow it. The statue had to be seen.

He traced the picture of the statue gently with his fingers wondering if anyone would notice her name. It was engraved on her left foot in small fonts. It was Victoria.

It was a splendid move by the Rebellion, he thought. He didn't like it and the fact that his intentions for the magic to be used different but he knew it was an absolutely brilliant move by Ted. The statue is named Victoria, printed on her bare feet. To be mentioned at the end of the chapter. It was enchanted by Dumbledore. There was no way to destroy or move it. He had made sure of it.

Fawkes fluttered into the room from the window carrying a squirming Acromantula in his beak. It was screeching and Fawkes felt smug.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore exclaimed in outrage. "We have talked about this!"

The Phoenix felt smugger if that were possible. Suddenly the Acromantula burst into flames and in seconds was reduced to ash. Fawkes trilled happily when the energy of the creature became its own.

Dumbledore calmed his beating heart. He never understood why Fawkes thought it prudent to bring his food to his office to eat! He had felt Fawkes emote that his office was home but he didn't really believe that. He had a stronger feeling that the Phoenix just messing with him.

He sighed and chuckled. He ran his fingers down his plumage and Fawkes trilled again. "I can't believe another war is about to strike," he said glumly. "This one is going to be worse than the first and sure to leave behind causalities. It had already started. I can even begin to imagine how far the two sides will take this war."

He stood up and walked over to his window. He saw a few lights still on in the school dormitories, vibrant against the night.

"And once again I am on the side-lines, forced to act from the shadows. And when they come to be for help I wonder which side I will choose?"

This wasn't about good versus evil. This was about deciding who was right. And those were the worst kinds of war!

The Slytherin girl's dorm had a faint light coming from it and Dumbledore wondered if it was Ms Greengrass. His mind wandered to the last part of Skeeter's article.

 _It is shocking that fourteen-year-old Daphne Greengrass is being treated as a suspect by the Aurors who have twisted her heroic effort to unite the houses of Hogwarts into some calculated move by the Muggleborn Rebellion!_

It was a contrast to her opening lines about Daphne, Dumbledore mused. The article almost painted her as an equal rights crusader. Dumbledore could see Rita already planning her next scoop about the Greengrass case files. Daphne was definitely someone to watch. Her name was entwined in Harry's and now it had taken root in the ranks of the Rebellion as well.

Dumbledore sighed. The December Wizengamot session was going to be quite dramatic, he thought wearily.

"I getting too old for this," he grumbled.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **First December Nineteen Ninety-Three: Ministry of Magic – Wizengamot Hall**

"It is an eyesore," shouted Lord Gamp.

Murmurs of agreement reached the corners of the Hall.

"We can't even destroy or cloak the blasted thing," spat Lord Selwyn. Grandfather on his mothers side to Neville Longbottom.

"It's even got some dark magic on it that makes people feel sympathy towards mudbloods!" screeched Lady Parkinson. She had taken over the seat after her husband's death.

The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot banged his hammer on the table, sending a pulse of magic through all members, forcing them to calm down.

"We must remain calm," drawled Lucius Malfoy. "I believe the biggest elephant in the room must be addressed first." His eyes fell on Cornelius Fudge who in turn looked to Dumbledore for help.

When Dumbledore was Chief Warlock, he had not once, used the hammer to instil calm in the Wizengamot. His voice had been enough.

"Pray tell, Minister. How are the efforts to capture the criminals who did this going?"

Lucius smiled darkly at Fudge. There was no more prolonging of the inevitable. Cornelius Fudge was going to be removed from the position of Minister for Magic. Lucius was going to ensure it.

"It would be going well if not for Lord Dumbledore blocking our every move to interrogate Daphne Greengrass!" boomed the voice of Amelia Bones who was sick and tired of serving under the incompetence of Fudge.

Fudge jumped in his seat at the unexpected interjection. He twirled his bowler hat around his head and with the desperation of a dying man, he summoned his political mask.

"Well," he laughed shakily, "You know the rules laid down by the Board of Hogwarts better than anyone Lucius." He shook a finger in Lucius direction as if amusingly reminding him of them. "You were the one who championed it after all!"

Fudge turned to Amelia.

"And you agreed to them Amelia," he said. There was disapproval in his voice and a hint of reproach in his eyes as if wondering how Amelia was stupid enough to forget.

Dumbledore, standing three rows below, resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fudge was going to spin the thread. But it was too late. Even he knew today was Fudge's last day in office.

It was inevitable.

"All students at Hogwarts are under the jurisdiction of the Headmaster of Hogwarts! The Ministry cannot interfere. Under such circumstances you blame me for not supporting your pointless crusade against an innocent girl? Dumbledore is well within his right to stop the Aurors from traumatizing that young girl Amelia!"

"She knows something," growled the Director of the Auror Department. There was murder in her grey eyes. Amelia looked at Dumbledore. "You know it too Dumbledore," she spat. "I don't know what the real reason for you to block us is. But you can gurantee I will dig it out."

"You're welcome to try Madam Bones," Dumbledore said with a polite smile. The truth was he did know Bones would easily find out about Ted from Daphne and Dumbledore could not let that happen. For now, he was leaning towards the cause of the Muggleborns. Amelia could not be allowed to find them. If it weren't for him, she would have found and crushed them within a week of the Ministry invasion.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot!" Lucius shouted in anger. Even the Chief Warlock was allowed to express his opinion instead of just being a mediator. And when the Chief Warlock opinioned something. That opinion demanded to be followed. It was the power the special seat held.

"Rage festers in our world. Our beloved ministry has been invaded. The Fountain of Brethren destroyed! What are we talking about here? Instead of cracking down on the sect where these criminals come from, we are dancing circles around them!"

His cold eyes burned with a controlled fire as they swept and met with everyone, as if conveying a personal message instead of a message to an audience.

"The Ministry has been violated and our Minister _laughs_ ," he hissed coldly.

All eyes turned to Fudge. The executioner raised his axe.

"If you, my dear Wizengamot members, have any sense. You will call for a Vote of Confidence in this man."

He held the Wizengamot in the palm of his hand.

"I call for a Vote!" Amelia shouted in agreement.

"Now just wait a moment," Fudge protested but his voice was drowned under the growing tide of aye's.

The shouts for Vote grew louder and louder until Lucius banged his hammer to send a pulse of magic again.

"The Chief Warlock acknowledges the plea. The Vote will be held now."

"You can't do this!" Fudge shouted. "Tell him Albus!" His brown eyes were wide in disbelief. This was happening too fast. The axe was falling.

Albus said nothing.

Lucius drew his wand and tapped his table whispering a spell. Tables all over the Wizengamot began to glow and in seconds was replaced by a piece of parchment and quill. On his own table, a longer parchment replaced the glow on which the for and against votes would be revealed.

Fudge quietened and glared unhappily at the hall. His supporters were too few. Dumbledore, his only hope had all but abandoned him. His reign was at end. His power stripped.

Fifteen minutes later they were done. This was how the Wizengamot functioned. They met once a year and held the fate and future of Magical Britain in their hands. Whenever the sessions closed, their world always shifted.

"Cornelius Fudge," Lucius said softly. His voice carried as the Hall held its breath. "By a vote of Ninety-Six to Four. You have been found to be incapable of leading the Ministry…" The Hall exploded in noise. The Press Corner began to flash as cameras clicked away. Radio correspondents began to spread the news. "… and have been removed from your Post of Minister for Magic!" he finished, shouting over the noise, feeling exhilarated.

Then Dumbledore raised an arm and as if it were a beacon, everyone quietened down. Lucius felt furious. His perfect execution had been interrupted!

"I believe," Dumbledore said lightly, his eyes twinkling. "In the event of a Minister being removed from his post, an interim minister must be elected or else an immediate election is to be held."

Lucius's mind raced. The Chief Warlock could not be Minister. And if he wanted to stand for elections he would have to resign his post.

In the Press and Radio Booth, whispered didn't stop. This was turning out to be an explosive Wizengamot Meet.

"I recommend an election," Lucius said to the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore smiled. Lucius might be a shoe in for Minister but he would not control the seat of Chief Warlock if he contested.

Lucius could see it in Dumbledore's eyes. If he didn't contest, then Dumbledore himself was going to contest for Minister. And if he did, he would lose the influence of being Chief Warlock. Lucius cursed in his mind. He did not see this coming. Dumbledore was ready to sacrifice Hogwarts to counter his move.

"All those in favour of the motion mark your parchments," he added after waiting a moment.

It was a landslide decision. There was going to be a premature Election. The first in decades.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Thirteen February, Nineteen Ninety-Four: Malfoy Manor**

It was over.

The political battle had been tremendous. Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, Amos Diggory and Elphias Doge had contested along with Lucius Malfoy. The battle had cracked fissures through their world until…

…in the end, when Lucius won.

Sure, Dumbledore had become the Chief Warlock and retained his title as Headmaster of Hogwarts but he was the Minister for Magic. He was finally in a position to counter Dumbledore at the highest level. He was finally in a position to force the Pureblood ideals on their world.

He was finally in a position to root them out and seal their beloved world from muggle influence. It was not going to be easy but he was going to do it.

Lucius was sitting in front of his fireplace, in his armchair, with a heated blanket on his lap, covering the stumps that were his legs. They hurt. They hurt a lot. He couldn't sleep sometimes because of the agony. He hid it behind a mask of superiority but it bloody hurt. He was going to destroy all the muggleborns to compensate for his pain.

He was nursing a glass of Ogden's finest while awaiting the arrival of his son from Drumstrang. The son of the Minister for Magic of Magical Britain could not be seen in a foreign school no matter. Draco was going back to Hogwarts.

A knock on his front door distracted him. He wasn't expecting anyone. And why had the wards not detected anything? His pulse quickened.

"Dobby," he said sharply. A house elf cracked into existence. It was wearing a pillow case and looked miserable.

"See who is at the door."

Dobby the house elf apparated to the front door and opened the doors with a curl of his fingers.

In the living room, Lucius saw the flash of green highlight the entrance hall.

His heart began to beat in fear. He quickly drew his wand and kept ready the hate needed to cast the killing curse.

A hooded figure walked into the living room. It was tall and broad.

"Who are you," Lucius asked, his voice a calm trigger.

"Why Lucius," the voice been the hood purred. Pale white hands rose and pushed the hood back.

Lucius dropped his wand and lowered his head reverently. He attempted to hide his revulsion at the sight before him but couldn't.

Cold red eyes burned into Lucius's head.

"Rise and meet the eyes of your Master, Lucius."

Lucius gulped and raised his head. Grey eyes met red and supressed its horror at the man standing before him.

He didn't recognize the man. It was impossible. But he did recognize the voice and eyes that seemed to be growing from inside out on the man's face. His skin was peeling and rotting revealing pussy black flesh. He was smiling and the picture it painted was terrifying.

"Aren't you going to offer me a seat my Dark Prince?" Lord Voldemort asked mockingly. "Or is the new Minister for Magic placing himself above his Lord?"

Lucius gathered his wits and smiled. "I would stand to bow before you My Lord. But as you can see, my legs are missing," he said dryly. "Please sit my Lord. You look like you need the rest."

Lord Voldemort chuckled and sat opposite Lucius. "Your humour has been missed, Lucius," he said. A piece of skin from his chin broke loose and fell with a splat on the floor.

Lucius pointed his wand at the fireplace and closed the floo connection.

"I'm sure you don't want to be disturbed my Lord," Lucius said smoothly. Draco was going to have to wait.

Red eyes glittered cruelly. "Yes," he hissed and anger began to turn the air heavy. "We have a lot to _talk_ about."


	23. House of Black

**House of Black**

 **Twenty Fifth February Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Library**

"Why are you living in a juvenile home Harry?"

It had taken her long enough. Daphne had finally summoned the courage to ask Harry about the elephant size question about his past.

Harry smiled. He didn't look up from writing in his journal. He was modifying his runes. They lacked the power they needed. He had to find a way to bridge the gap between them. To eliminate the tunnel through which magic was summoned. It had to be wider. Or it had to be smaller. How to do it?

"Is it a funny story?" Daphne asked drily. Harry was smiling too much.

"I killed my Aunt and Uncle."

He said it with such nonchalance that Daphne didn't believe him. There was no regret, no emotion behind that statement except for the small smile playing on his lips.

"You're messing with me aren't you?" Daphne asked suspiciously. Harry never messed around with his words. But she couldn't help but not believe him. If it were true, Harry wouldn't be at Hogwarts. The Ministry could not allow it even if they wanted to.

Harry shrugged.

Slow horror began to rise in her. It didn't feel like Harry was lying. "You really killed them?" she whispered.

Harry didn't reply. Instead, he frowned at his notes. He pulled the Dark Arts tome from under the book on chakras and flipped to the page about runes. _Blood is the most powerful catalyst, it said._ Harry thoughts began to turn in a new direction.

"Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied absently. He was too focused on his runes. Daphne was beginning to disturb his thoughts. "Now keep quiet," he added.

Daphne on the other hand felt her mind spin out of control. It couldn't be true could it? It just wasn't possible. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was why he was the way he was. He was a murderer. Just like her.

Emotions that Daphne had long supressed rose dangerously high and she felt like throwing up. "I gotta go," she said queasily and left the library.

The silence of her absence made Harry sigh in pleasure. He didn't fully understand why he put up with her. But anyway, that was not important. Nothing was as important as it was to perfect his runes. To see his vision for magic made real. He dreamt about it now. Every time he slept, he could see himself. Standing on the largest sand dune in an endless desert. Feeling the scorching heat on his back while magic reigned supreme. Testing the endurance of witches and wizards.

But first. He had a new catalyst to test.

It was almost eight in the evening. One hour till curfew so it would be easy to sneak out. Lately Harry was seeing aurors randomly coming to Hogwarts to make pointless patrols. Prefects making double the rounds at night. Even teachers who patrolled through Hogwarts looking for troublemakers.

The Weasley twins had their work cut out by rebelling against the cage closing around their freedom. Prank attacks were happening more often than ever. Parts of the castle were creatively redecorated at night, leaving teachers to attempt to sanitise the decors for the rest of the day.

Harry began to suspect there was something going on. He had noticed the red cores of many children taste of fear. But he had dismissed it without a thought. They didn't concern him. The late night security, on the other hand, did. He had a secret and he didn't want eyes prying. He didn't want to share his dream. It was personal and he obsessed over it day and night.

His feet had taken him towards the secret exit to the Great Hall but then he remembered the Entrance would still be open so he could leave from there. He turned right instead of left and walked face first into a taller boy.

He stumbled back, almost losing his balance and the Void screamed in anger.

Harry looked up with furious eyes and was met by amused grey.

"Hello Potter," the boy drawled.

His voice sounded familiar. Grey eyes, high cheekbones, silky blonde hair falling over his eyes. His robe had the Slytherin crest and his skin was almost pale white.

Harry controlled the Void and manoeuvred to walk past him but the boy stuck an arm out stopping him.

The Void bubbled inside him.

The colours of the wall and the boy in front of him came in focus. His tunnel vision of thought broadened and he noticed another girl with the boy. Her funny upturned nose looked distinctively familiar. The remaining light from dusk was retreating from the corridor and the candles were magically lighting their flame.

"Get out of my way," Harry said coldly.

Draco Malfoy slowly withdrew his hand. "Don't you recognise me Potter? I didn't know you suffered from memory loss."

Harry had enough. The Void lashed out and Draco was slammed into the wall. He cried out in pain as the back of his head struck the wall hard.

Draco felt darkness creep into the shadows of his eyes and he forced himself to stay conscious. Pansy moved to draw her wand but he gestured with his hand which was free to move to stop her from doing anything.

Harry closed in and the Void crawled around Draco's neck. Harry observed the boy's colours and noticed something odd.

"You're not afraid," Harry whispered. His eyes glinted with the urge to squeeze the life out of Draco.

"Go ahead," Draco hissed, his voice half choked. "Kill me Potter. Finish what you couldn't do last time!"

Harry frowned and took a step back. His colours were different. He remembered now. This was they boy who had challenged him to a duel. He couldn't colours back them but it was obvious something had changed within the magic of the blonde before him.

His red was full of anger and strong. He had barely any orange and his green was a dark colour. He was like Daphne, Harry realised. Dominated by the thoughts of revenge. He recognised the pattern now. And it looked like the boy harboured hate towards him. Suddenly Harry felt something new as he analysed the boy's colours. A different kind of excitement. This boy wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him suffer. Harry didn't know why. He wanted the boy to try.

The Void retreated with the thrill of future anticipation and Draco collapsed to the ground. He coughed and rubbed his throat before shakily standing on his feet.

Draco laughed hoarsely. "That's right," he spat. "You can't. My father's the Minister now and if you touch me again you'll be in Azkaban faster than you can blink."

The boy was threatening him. A smile tugged at the edges of Harry's lips and his eyes darkened with challenge. He could kill him but he knew well enough now, he couldn't give Dumbledore an excuse to expel him. Harry needed Hogwarts.

Draco's eyes turned wary at the sight of Harry's smile but he steeled himself and sneered back. Drumstrang had been hell. And now he was back at Hogwarts as the son of the Minister for Magic.

"I'll be seeing you around Potter," Draco said and brushed past Harry. Pansy sneered and followed Draco.

Harry giggled. That boy was going to try to hurt him. And when he did, Harry couldn't wait to retaliate. Self-defence was allowed after all. He continued towards the Entrance feeling energised. The last few months at Hogwarts could prove entertaining.

It was night now and outside Harry could see the faint traces of brooms flying about the Quidditch ground. Some team was practising. A cool breeze lifted bits of snow past him and Harry drew a rune of warmth on his palm with his wand. Instantly his body warmed against the biting breeze.

He saw a couple walking up from the lakeside and drew a rune of invisibility on his forehead. He shimmered out of view just as he came into their line of sight.

The girl was startled. She thought she had seen someone but the figure had disappeared immediately. "Did you see that?" she gasped.

"No," the boy murmured. "It's just shadows Penelope."

"Maybe," she said doubtfully.

Harry walked towards the forest and once a little deep in, he rubbed out the rune from his forehead and shimmered into visibility.

The magic of the forest melted around him. Welcoming him. Embracing him as one with the forest. The sky above darkened, showing the stars above with greater clarity. A wetness hung in the air, as Harry went deeper into the forest. Guided by magic and familiarity with his destination.

He couldn't sense creatures around him. They had learnt over the course of a few months that he was an even more dangerous monster. A monster who could use magic at a whim to slaughter them.

Green eyes roved around thick tree trunks, scouting for danger. His last trip into the forest had led to an encounter with a strange mist. It looked like a part of the rest of the mist in the forest but this one's colour was different. It was almost black. It was dangerous. Harry had skirted carefully around it but a strand had ended up touching his arm and pain had exploded in his nerves. He felt white hot knives plunging into every part of his body and the flesh where the mist had touched him began to melt.

Harry had barely escaped. His rune of healing had halted the advance of the foreign magic and he was forced to go to the hospital wing and explain to the Nurse it was a flesh eating slug that had attacked him.

The nurse didn't believe him but healed him none the less.

The encounter had taught Harry how dangerous magic could be. Later he was glad he had found the mist. It had given him the idea of spreading his runes in a similar fashion.

An hour later, Harry walked into a spacious clearing that looked out of place in the thick of trees.

It was an acre wide open space that seemed like a divide between two forests. There were strange stone structures that were monoliths arranged in what seemed to be patterns. Parts of the dry land were spaced with small pools of sand. Magic was thick in the air.

Harry closed his eyes and spread the Void, feeling the welcome touch of magic around him. It was blissful.

A half-moon dimly illuminated the land and glittered against the sand. It didn't matter to Harry. He could see well enough in the dark. Colours of magic was his light.

The night was silent as the dead.

And in the midst of it Harry slowly raised his wand and carefully drew it along his left wrist, splitting the skin in two. Dark red began to spill out and drip to the ground. Then he lowered himself to his knees and began to draw.

The sound of his finger softly tracing in mud scratched against the silence. Harry finished a moment later and healed his wrist with a quick trace of the rune for healing using his blood.

The skin closed without leaving a mark and Harry pushed the Void into the rune diagram.

The rune began to glow a soft red. It began to pulse, brightening with every interval, casting a hellish glow through the treeline.

Harry had to shield his eyes when the rune suddenly burned bright as the sun. He felt magic pulled through the source and gasped when it felt like his energy was suddenly taken away.

He fell to his knees, his body reeling with shock and felt soft sand instead of a hardened ground.

The light cleared and Harry stared around in amazement. He was panting with exhaustion but the result was magnificent! The pool of sand was usually a couple of meters in radius but after using his blood the result was a good twenty meters all around him! The rune had even taken down one of the monoliths which seemed to be resist to the magic of the rune.

A giggle bubbled in his chest. Harry burst into chuckles. This was brilliant. This was progress! His dream was one step closer.

His laughter echoed around through the trees and Harry turned his head up to look at the moon. His eyes glowed under its light.

Then he took a deep breath and brought his wand to his left wrist again. He wasn't done yet. The night was still young.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **First March Nineteen Ninety-Four - Thirteen Grimmauld Place, London.**

It was the first meeting in seven years that hosted all the members of the Order of the Phoenix: A secret society of Magicals who put the needs of greater others before their own.

At present the magical world needed them most. A force of good and justice. In this era, Albus Dumbledore was chosen to be its leader. He was chosen by a phoenix, a phoenix who was now his familiar, during his battle with Dark Lord Grindelwald.

"Welcome friends," Albus said softly, seated at the head of a large rectangular unpolished oak table. The dining room was well lit with three candle chandeliers casting a warm and welcome glow over all.

Albus looked at the seven people around him. Emmaline Vance, Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Nymphadora Tonks and Sirius Black.

"Firstly let us welcome Sirius and Tonks to our ranks. I can confidently say they will uphold the values of our order. To be a pillar of support and justice when all else fails."

Tonks was blushing. Sirius was scowling.

"What's the alert Albus," Moody growled. "Surely it's not about those idiot muggleborns. Starting a goddamn civil war. Fucking punks," he spat.

Tonks giggled and was instantly glared into silence by McGonagall.

"They're fighting for their rights Moody," Vance said severely. "Don't judge them."

"I'm not judging," Moody retorted. "I'm just saying the world is a big place. If they got no rights here then go somewhere else! Believe me, if they saw what's out there they wouldn't ever come back and live like the shit stains inside my commode."

"You certainly have a twisted way of saying you're not judging Alastor," Vance spat back. "This is their home! And don't tell me you don't care about that. I've seen the wards you have around your own. And I've helped you win court cases over ownership of your land."

"You helped me?! Give me a break," he laughed sarcastically. "And I have no problem leaving if the situation calls for it. My situation doesn't, theirs does. There's a difference Vance. Buried under all those prophecies you seem to a have lost that voice of reason in your head as well."

"Ladies," Dumbledore interrupted. His words timely and firm. His raised his hands placatingly. "I actually called this meeting to discuss Lord Voldemort moving into Malfoy Manor."

"Oh just fucking great," Moody sighed. "Well haven't we just dug ourselves the perfect grave. The dark lord under the protection of the Ministry!"

No one countered him. They all stared at Dumbledore in shock. Even Vance.

"The recent abolishment of the Wizengamot to establish the Minister of Magic as the voice of authority for all Britain was his move."

It had happened three day before and the stress of change finally broken the ministry. With the new power of control and decision making, there were mass resignations in the Ministry protesting the move. But the decision was final and already battle lines were being drawn within the Auror department; the most powerful department in the Ministry. Amelia Bones was rallying Aurors to her side as she openly prepared to oppose Lucius Malfoy after she was sacked and replaced by Pius Thicknesse.

"If I may interrupt, headmaster," Tonks said hesitantly. "I have news concerning the same."

"You can call me Albus now Tonks," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Okay. _Albus_ ," she stressed with a smile. "If Madam Bones does not leave her office tomorrow, the Minister has ordered her to be arrested. Shacklebolt sent me a message in Hogwarts." Amelia was barricaded in the Auror office with her closest supporters.

"She will run," Vance said grimly. "She has no choice. The families of Aurors are already being threatened to fall in line or else face bad consequences. Bones knows this. Our best move right now is to recruit her into the Order before she joins Ted. If she joins Ted then you can guarantee this war is going to turn bloody. So far it's been relatively clean."

"There is a reason why we didn't recruit her the first time around Vance," Doge said softly.

"She is a loose cannon and very aggressive. Remember how she went after that girl in school? She is an investigator who chases down every possible lead with guns blazing. She lacks the subtly our Order needs."

"The Order must stay pure," Diggle agreed with a squeak.

"Okay," Sirius laughed upon hearing that. "Beginning to sound like a pure blood there Diggle," he joked. "Albus. You told me I'd be making a difference here. Dedicating myself to the cause of others. Basically you wanted me to get off my ass. Now so far I haven't heard anything constructive. Just secret society gossip."

"We share news Black," Moody growled angrily, not liking the insinuation Black was making. Voldemort would have won a long time ago if it weren't for the Order. "We have to talk, exhaust ideas, before making big decisions. "You joining us should have been a decision that should have been talked over." Here Moody glanced at Dumbledore with irritation.

"We need people Moody. Half our numbers were cut down during the last war and I fear this time we're going to need more."

"So let's talk about potential recruits then," Sirius said quickly before they degenerated into another line of thought and talks. "We certainly could do with some young blood around here," he said and winked at Tonks who laughed and turned her hair red.

"I nominate Severus Snape," Dumbledore said.

Sirius froze. "A force for justice? Him? You've got to be kidding me!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Tenth March Nineteen Ninety-Four – Malfoy Manor.**

A throne fit for a king dominated the living room of Malfoy Manor. It was placed next to the fire place, casting a red glow on a medium built man with short blonde hair. He was dressed in black robes and was lazily twirling a wand. He was fair skinned and could be called attractive if not for all the rotting skin that was falling from parts of his face and hands. His eyes were crimson red and a black mist was slowly leaving the body from the places of rot.

Lucius sat in a smaller chair with a high back next to Voldemort and couldn't take his eyes off the mist that was leaving the Dark Lord's body.

"Your time is up My Lord," he said softly.

His voice carried to the five men kneeling before them. Each had been tasked to find certain ingredients for a dark ritual.

Voldemort let his eyes observe each one carefully. Reduced to possessing muggles, his anger was always on the boil. And now this body was failing. The enchantments were falling apart. He was reverting to his incorporeal state.

"You had one Month," he hissed furiously. "Why have you returned empty handed?"

The men quivered with unease.

"The ingredients are hard to come by My Lord. We need more time."

Voldemort itched to kill one of them to teach them a lesson. But he didn't. His magic was still very weak. It took all his effort to stay within the body he was inhabiting. He needed them. He hated needing others. His rage only grew because of that.

"How much time?"

"A year."

Lucius thought the man brave for giving that long a time frame.

Magic radiated from the dark lord, compressed with his displeasure. "You have four," Voldemort said. He then stood up and slowly walked to the master bedroom. "Send the next muggle in," he mentioned to Lucius as he passed by him.

"He's in your room, My Lord," Lucius said with a bow of his head. If he had legs, he would be expected to genuflect.

Once Voldemort had left, he turned to the five men. "You heard him, you have four months to gather the ingredients."

"We'll do our best," the man said neutrally.

Lucius knew they would disappear if they didn't find what the dark lord wanted. These men were good at that.

"May we leave?" the man asked.

Lucius smiled coldly. "Of course," he said and raised his hand for a handshake with the intent to seal the deal. It was his gold being spent after all.

The man glared at it but shook it nonetheless. "Come on. Let's go," he said to the rest.

Lucius stared at their retreating backs and then turned towards the fire, his mind deep in thought. After he was sure no one was going to disturb him, he pulled out his wand and carefully removed the invisible layer of skin around his right hand. It was coated in poison. He tossed it into the fire and let his mind get lost within the dancing flames.

He had just betrayed the dark lord. Watching the man take away all that he had worked for left a sour taste in his mouth. It hadn't been easy taking the post of Minister and the Dark Lord had come out of nowhere to take away his crown. And now, with the new regulations thought out by the Dark Lord, the Minister of Magic was slowly being transformed into a seat of unlimited power. Lucius wanted it all for himself.

He glanced up the stairs were the Dark Lord was probably in the process of possessing a new body. It was a race of time now. Would the Dark Lord get the materials for his ritual before he figured out how to destroy him or would he defeat the Dark Lord for good?

His mind wandered to the state of affairs at the ministry. Amelia's departure from the ministry along with half the Auror force was a big blow but the chaos was settling. His position was being cemented. The only thing he was unable to remove was the damned statue in the Atrium. They had tried to close an entire section of the atrium to hide the statue but shockingly it moved and settled in a more visible place. Lucius had put together a team in the department of mysteries to remove it.

There were still things to look forward to but first he had to finally visit the muggle prime minster. He smiled. It was time the muggles were cut out of their world.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifteenth April Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts**

"I found 'im at the edge of the forest," Hagrid said.

Flitwick conjured a stretcher with a flick of his wand and with another flick, Harry was floated into the stretcher.

"Hmm, did you inform the headmaster?" Flitwick asked, his voice high pitched with worry.

"I sent an owl," Hagrid affirmed.

"Very well. Thank you Hagrid. I'll take it from here."

"Lemme know if 'Arry is okay!" Hagrid shouted as Flitwick began to hum and levitate the stretcher to the hospital wing. "He's a good kid!"

Flitwick turned back and waved cheerily.

As they walked into Hogwarts Flitwick decided to cast a diagnostic charm on Harry and was surprised to find the cause of unconscious was blood loss. That was strange, Flitwick thought. There wasn't a single scratch on his body except for the scar on his forehead. Flitwick hummed in contemplation.

"I guess Pomfrey will figure it out," he said and squeaked when he almost tripped over the foot of a suit of armour. "That was a close one," he gasped with a hand over his heart.


	24. Two Problems

**Two Problems**

 **Twenty Third April Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Headmasters Office**

"Something is wrong."

Dumbledore looked up and observed Tonks. She looked worried.

"His pattern has changed?"

"He's been looking more tired lately. His blood sucking slug story is full of holes and he's been unfocused in class."

Dumbledore pursed his lips and looked at Snape who was sitting next to Tonks.

"I can feel his desire to murder me," Snape said drily.

"You probably feel that from every student," Tonks quipped.

The portraits of headmasters laughed softly.

Snape glared around Dumbledore's office silencing the old fossils. "I brushed against his mind as well. I was very subtle."

"Snape!" Tonks gasped. "You didn't!"

Dumbledore remained impassive. "And?" he pressed meaningfully.

"You were right. I immediately felt magic try and trap me. I don't think he does it consciously. It's his subconscious."

"Legilimency is frowned upon Snape," Tonks said, her hair turning brown and long. Her eyes turned blue with severity.

"We're allowed if we feel a student is hiding something that could affect the school and students," Snape replied smoothly. "And it is an art only the talented can learn." Here his lips curled into a sneer. "That's probably why you can't learn it Professor Tonks."

"What did you see?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring the byplay.

A sparrow flew into the office from the open window. The sun was above the forest and the sky was glowing bright blue. Cool wind circulated around the office getting rid of the stale air of a closed room. Fawkes was not around.

Snape frowned. "I didn't see," he murmured. He himself was unsure of what had happened in the fourth of a second in which he had looked into Harry's mind. "I felt," he said.

"There was a cold rage. Cold and controlled. A Will unlike anything I have experienced," Snape trailed into silence, pondering over Harry's mind. "There's a dream he wants fulfilled," he said at last. "That's the closest I can come to describing it. A dream born from the rage."

"Did you see anything?" Dumbledore stressed on see. It was important. "You must have seen something."

Snape sighed. Dumbledore was being forceful today. "It was dark. Could be a manifestation of the night. It's a common form of defence in some Occlumens. There was a breeze and it was hot. I felt like my body was burning up with heat."

"Interesting," Dumbledore murmured.

Snape shrugged. He hoped Dumbledore didn't ask him to do it again. He wasn't sure he'd be fast enough to get away from that strange magic the next time.

There was a moment of silence as Dumbledore put the dots of Harry's life in his mind's eye and then tried to connect them to understand him. Couple of minutes later, he stood up, walked to his pensive and deposited a string of thoughts into it.

He then sat back down with a sigh and smiled at Tonks. "You're already being touted as the best defence against the dark arts teacher in decades. Your mind is sharp and bullshit doesn't escape you."

Tonks laughed, turning pink. "Way to be candid Albus!"

"And your clumsiness has a fan following," Snape added acidly.

"I want you to keep an eye on Harry this weekend," Dumbledore said to Tonks seriously. "Follow him, observe him and keep your distance. Do not come into his line of sight in any direction," he instructed. "He is up to something and when a psychopath is up to something you can guarantee is not a good thing."

"I don't understand why you don't cart him off to Azkaban," Snape groused.

Tonks shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Hearing you say the boy who lived is a psychopath is not reassuring Professor-

"It's Albus Tonks," Dumbledore interrupted with amusement.

"-Albus," Tonks corrected. "Not after you told us about the prophecy. Harry should be locked up, not let loose."

"To what end?" Dumbledore sighed.

"Train him!" Tonks said.

"To become a weapon that we use at our leisure?"

"You just said he's a psychopath. Wouldn't some directioning help him at least focus on killing you know who? -

"It's Voldemort Tonks," Dumbledore interrupted.

"-Oh for Merlin's sake Albus! Stop doing that!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Prophecies are funny things Tonks. We never know if our actions are driven by prophecies or if prophecies are driven by our actions. Harry is important, we cannot let our rules decide his path. He is on the path of a true prophecy. You don't see it yet, but his actions are shaping our world."

"But he does nothing!" Tonks exclaimed.

"And look at the chaos that has wrought," Dumbledore said mysteriously.

Tonks went blank. The Headmaster was not making any sense anymore.

"Nevermind," Dumbledore said with a smile. It was deeply philosophical and theoretical discussion he was not keen on having with Tonks.

"Just keep a close eye on him Tonks," Snape snapped. "He's crazy and dangerous. He's a Potter!"

Dumbledore resisted the urge to punch the sarcasm out of Snape.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Second May Nineteen Ninety-Four - Hogwarts: History of Magic Class**

It was History of Magic and Harry was upset. He had come across a startling discovery that had shaken his desert dream. It had been absolutely unexpected. He had migrated to the other side of the divide towards the unexplored forest and while in the middle of watching his rune suck all the moisture out of the ground, turning it into sand, a Gryffin had walked past unaffected by the magic.

Harry looked at it in shock and the Griffin stared back at Harry. By the time the ground beneath and turned to sand, the Griffin had strolled back into the forest and disappeared from sight.

The Griffin had brought a whole new set of realisations to Harry. One, the creature had just walked across and two, it had not been affected by the magic. Only matter that was not channeling magic was affected by the runic magic. That meant a lot of things were going to be unaffected by his runes. It made Harry realise that even if he managed to create and power a rune structure to take over an entire city, the people could easily escape! The thought upset him. Since then he was thinking of ways to trap people in the desert. It would do no good if they used their pathetic form of magic and just escaped!

He was so engrossed in his dilemma he didn't even register Draco Malfoy trying to get his attention.

Eventually Draco gave up and caught Daphne's eye. Daphne smirked at him and he turned away with a scowl. Things were vastly different in the Slytherin common room from when he was there. There was a divide in the house. There were those who called themselves true Slytherin's, who preached cunning and ambition, who were unanimously represented by rising star Daphne Greengrass, and there were those who prided on being pure of blood, now represented by Draco Malfoy whose father was the minister of magic and thus held a lot of power.

Daphne had more numbers on her side and since Draco's return, there had been a few verbal encounters between them. So far, Draco had not come out on top of any of them. The sixth and seventh years usually stayed out of it but lately, after Lucius became minister, there were those who sided with Draco for personal reasons and those who sided with Daphne to oppose those with Draco. The environment in the house of Slytherin was rife with tension all the time.

Recently Daphne had raised the stakes and beaten Draco at a game of chess. With Professors cracking down on duelling and fighting with detentions and letters home, students were forced to find other means to challenge each other. The debate clubs had their weekend sessions full. Daphne was a prominent voice in all of them. She took on her peers and her seniors with confidence and boldness and she always came out on top of the debates. Students agreed with her views and it was reaching a stage where her ideals were being spoken about in common rooms at night.

The pureblood scions were fast becoming a minority at the school. Draco's return as the son of the minister of magic helped their cause a bit but it took all their efforts to maintain an image of superiority which was fast losing its dignity.

The debate about the controversial move by Minister Malfoy to dismantle the Wizengamot had been the topic of discussion last Sunday and Daphne had torn Draco apart, calling his father a dictator and the man who would bring down the economy to a level not seen since the medieval times.

No pureblood could counter her claims and she never gave them the time. She bulldozed over them and was radiating smugness since the latest debate.

Draco was beginning to hate her. He wanted nothing more than to draw his wand and show her what power really was.

The drone of Professor Binns sent a wave of sleepiness across the room and many yawned. Some were already fast asleep.

Daphne was sitting next to Tracey and playing tic tac toe. Half her mind was on the game and the other half on Ted.

She had been stunned to learn he was the man leading the rebellion. Ted was her father's assistant and it was why she had trusted him in the first place and let him into her home when he came knocking. They were a two-man army when it came to court cases and her father's destruction had also led to Ted's destruction. His status as a muggleborn only made things worse for him.

He was forced to leave his wife and kid to prevent bringing them down with him. He was forced to quit his job and had to become a janitor at the ministry to support himself just barely. His wife, being from a prominent family was left alone and not run into the ground like Daphne's mom. Mrs Greengrass was a first generation pureblood after all. Her mother was a half blood.

Daphne's mind wandered to her meeting with Tonks last week. To learn that Tonks was Ted's daughter was quite a shock. She had only ever known Ted as Ted the few times she had met him in the past long gone. She never knew him as Ted Tonks; husband of Andromeda Black and father of Nymphadora Tonks. She had never made the connection and was embarrassed about it outward but furious inside. If she had found out more about her father's assistant she could have approached Tonks when she joined Hogwarts as a Professor. Because she was upset with not making the connection, she never thought to wonder why Tonks hadn't approached her after all this time.

However, because of that connection she had grown close to Tonks in secret in no time at all. They spoke about the rebellion and the desire to see Lucius destroyed. They talked about how the rebellion was not effective enough and how they needed to do something drastic to push the scales in their favour.

In Tonks, Daphne had found a true friend. Tonks was also training her to fight. There were times Daphne felt intimidated when she went against older Slytherins and she hated feeling weak. So she had asked Tonks for private lessons and the older girl had willingly agreed.

"I win again," Tracy muttered with a bored sigh.

"In Sixteen twelve the inn Three Broomsticks was used as headquarters by wizards to quell the Goblin rebellion," Binns droned.

"Maybe the Goblins could learn a thing about winning from you," Daphne joked and the two girls dissolved into soft giggles. Despite throwing her weight all over the place, Daphne was still a young girl and enjoyed light hearted humour with her friend.

Harry turned back and glared at the giggling girls.

Daphne caught Harry's glare and her eyes widened. She quickly stifled her giggles and smiled feebly at Harry with a tinge of red rising up her neck.

The bell rang and the class was quick to run to the door.

"And that will be all for today," Binns said with a ghostly yawn.

Harry was the last to leave.

It was four in the evening and classes were over for the day. Today, Harry didn't go to the library, nor did he stealth his way into the forbidden forest. Today, he wandered around the castle aimlessly.

There was a crisis in his mind. The goal of the desert was unravelling. Could he trap people in the desert with his magic? How was be going to power the enchantment to grow to the majestic size of a real desert? His mind spun out of control. His feet led him into a maze of corridors into the lower levels of the castle. Thoughts flew past with dizzying pace until one came along with the hint of a solution. Wandering through the dungeons made Harry realise the corridors were like a labyrinth. It was a thought made far from his conscious mind but as his conscious searched for a solution, this particular thought stood out.

A labyrinth!

His mind went back to the wards around his godfather's land. They didn't let him leave. The wards warped around him when he reached the edges and pushed him back into another part of the land within the wards. The wards were like a maze. He was always in search for an exit.

A truly magnificent idea came to him and his mood improved.

What if the magic of the wards was woven into rune enchantment? What if he could reproduce the effect of the wards in tandem with the desert rune?!

His heart raced with excitement. His day had just brightened. He looked around to see where he had ended up and couldn't find any particular markers that looked familiar. He decided to attempt to walk back the way he came and as he made his way up, following the trail of magic noticed an abundance of magic coming from a wall.

He stopped and moved towards what looked like a man sized haze of transparent magic. As he got close, the haze suddenly moved and ran away.

Harry was stunned. Before he could react the magic had disappeared and he came to a chilling realisation. He was being followed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Through the next two weeks Harry was always on alert when roaming through the castle between classes. He had noticed the haze on five different occasions and all five times it had disappeared as soon as it was detected.

It had him on the edge. He yearned to go back to the forest but didn't want to risk his secret getting out. So in order to supress the desire to go back to his home within the depths of the forest, he buried himself in studying the magic behind wards. The amount of reliance on wand movements in the books made him sick and he spent hours writing in his journal, creating the equivalent rune structures.

He spent sleepless nights figuring out a way to create a rune structure that made a labyrinth. It had to be something that warped the air or land in order to trap a person inside. The end product was easy to imagine but writing it in rune was proving to be difficult. Harry needed more information. There was something missing. An important component that would help him understand the language of magic. A piece of knowledge that would make the ease the difficulty of writing that language with runes.

Presently he was in Transfiguration, staring out the window; controlling the itch in his leg that was beginning to become unbearable.

"Potter!"

McGonagall's voice whipped through his ear drums.

The class was with the Gryffindors. Harry saw a red headed boy laughing at him when he jumped to attention at the professor's voice.

"Yes, professor?" he said obediently. He had observed, over the course of time since his return from the desert, that surrendering a few words towards a conversation made the orange of people brighten. They liked being acknowledged.

"Why aren't you transfiguring your quill into glass?" she asked severely.

Harry scowled and drew his wand. With a glare at McGonagall he moved his wand through the necessary wand motions while pushing the void through it. The magic manifested into a web that settled over the quill and it shimmered into the state of a glass quill.

McGonagall pursed her lips and with reluctance gave ten points to Ravenclaw.

By now, no one batted an eye at feats of magic performed by Harry. His silent and perfect spell casting drew eyes at first and had sent a buzz through the castle about a prodigy but his barely pass grades on his assignments and tests let the buzz die out until he was considered as just gifted. Now, only Hermione glared at his skill with a wand with envy. Hermione Granger had had many a discussion with Daphne about her friendship with Harry and his study methods but the beautiful Slytherin was very evasive when it came to her odd friendship with Harry Potter.

Now that McGonagall had left Harry returned to staring out the window towards the forbidden forest. His itch grew stronger. He couldn't hold off any longer. Tonight he was going to return to his forest. He didn't care if someone was following him. Inside the forest. Where magic was one with him. They would not be able to escape.

Harry smiled. He couldn't wait to try out his new rune design.


	25. Monster

**Monster**

Later at night Harry made his way to the entrance hall secret passage when he felt like he was being watched again. He continued to walk with nonchalance and navigated his way back to the common room. He couldn't see the haze but he was sure he was being watched.

Harry felt the frustration well up in him. He was going to slaughter his watcher when he found them!

He entered the common room through the hidden door opened with an inconspicuous eagle door knob curiously hidden beside a statue of Godric Gryffindor.

He made his way through the warm common room, through one of the two split corridors leading to the back and stopped before the door that said third year dormitory.

He walked in and noted the presence of his roommates sitting in the beds with their bed curtains drawn close.

They all had light shining their curtains showing they were either studying or wanking. Harry had seen something he wished the Void could erase when Anthony Goldstein had forgotten to lock the shower door and since then his awareness about others had sort of spiked, where before he would ignore, now he was observing both colours and faces. Human behaviour was beginning to interest Harry enough for him to observe when he wasn't buried in rune theory.

The window was open and facing the forest. Harry had thought about going out that way but considering the risks he hadn't done it yet. Today however, he was frustrated and angry. He was feeling murderous. So without thinking about consequences and having second thoughts, Harry took two big strides and jumped out of the window.

Outside the Ravenclaw common room undercover agent for the order of the phoenix; Tonks, frowned.

She released her cloaking spell and stared pensively at the eagle door knob. She wondered if she should enter and have a last check up on Harry. Today it was clear he wanted to go somewhere but somehow detected her. Again. It was incredible how he could sense her. The cloaking spell was an Auror level disillusionment spell and was capable of fooling most wards. How Harry could sense her she didn't know, but she had learnt to maintain her distance just like Dumbledore had warned.

There was a feeling she had about him she couldn't shake. As a metamorphmagus she was skilled at reading people. And when she saw Harry, all she saw was a mask. A well-made human mask that seemed to be hiding so much more than what was shown.

A moment later she decided against going in. She couldn't risk getting into close proximity with Harry. Instead she decided to go the Slytherin common room and surprise Daphne. Getting close to Daphne was part two of her mission and in the short time that she had known the girl, she had grown to like her. Daphne was a girl who knew how to dish it out.

Tonks walked towards the dungeons and smiled. She was beginning to enjoy spending time with the spunky blonde.

* * *

Outside the castle walls. A boy jumped from four stories above and halfway down he suddenly began to slow down until he gently touched the ground.

Harry laughed in exhilaration. He didn't care if anyone heard him. That had been amazing! The feeling of weightlessness. The risk of being splatter against the ground if his rune of ascension didn't work. The thrill of facing death and winning. Harry suddenly felt like he was rediscovering what it meant to be alive.

Pulse still racing, Harry turned towards the forest and set off with a fast pace. He wanted to try out his new rune structure and he needed live bait. The adrenaline of flying ebbed out of him and the magic of the forbidden forest took hold of him.

Harry felt his heart beat slow and his pupils dilate as his senses grow sharp.

The magic of the forest felt his purpose and sent a message of warning. It was the same magic Harry had felt when he had first entered the forest. Magic that warned him to get away. Now the forest was warning other creatures away from him.

Harry walked among massive tree trunks and stony uneven ground in search of prey. He stalked through the silent forest towards the water pool.

Through the spaces of massive branches and leaves, moonlight shone through to the ground, bringing into focus tiny creatures like bowtruckles and spiders who were hurrying out of Harry's path in panic.

Harry didn't give them a second glance. His mind was set on bigger prey.

He wet his finger by putting it in his mouth and raised the finger to see in which direction the wind was blowing. He had discovered during his third trip into the forest, that the wind always blew away from water holes. To find water he had to travel against the wind. He felt the east side of his finger get marginally colder and he changed directions.

He avoided the areas where there was green moss. He had seen first-hand, an Acromantula fall on the moss and then convulse to death. The colour of the most was green and felt welcome but Harry was sure it was somehow hiding its true colours. He didn't know how it was doing it and resolved to uncover its mystery.

Harry felt the wind pick up pace and knew he was close. He supressed his magic as much as possible and creeped towards the open space he could see through the gaps were the moonlight shone.

A small open space where the moon light was bright, came into view and Harry almost gasped in delight. There was a centaur drinking water!

Harry drew his wand and channelled the Void.

"Cease your spell at once," came a gruff voice behind him. Harry felt the sharp tip of an arrow press into his neck.

He never even saw the second centaur coming.

Harry went still and smiled. Two centaurs were better than one.

"Move," it growled poking Harry, encouraging him to move into the open clearing around the water hole.

The centaur drinking water straightened and turned around, his hoofs beating against the hard ground. When Harry came into the light it gasped.

"He's a youngling!"

"He's not like the other wizards," growled the one holding the arrow against Harry. "His magic is different."

"He's wearing Hogwarts robes," the other murmured. "How curious the creature we be hunting turn out to be a youngling from Hogwarts. What shall we do Bane?"

"Take him to Dumbledore," Bane growled. "What's your name child?"

Harry's smile grew larger. The Void was already around the centaurs. They were so stunned by his appearance that they forgot why they were hunting him in the first place.

"You will not be taking me anywhere," Harry chuckled softly.

"Don't do anything now," Bane warned. He suddenly felt the sinister in the magic around them. "You'd be dead before you can curse us. Drop your wand now."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You should surrender," he whispered softly as he dropped his wand to the ground. Bane snorted and his voice came out like a horses' neigh. Only deeper and more powerful. He banged his hoof against the ground and the noise echoed in all directions across the waterhole.

"Here that Ronan?" Bane laughed. "The boy thinks he can take us without his wand."

"Mars loses light, Bane," Ronan said. There was an odd inflection of uncertainly in his voice.

Bane looked into the sky and smiled grimly. "Be as it may. We have a duty. Bind him Ronan."

An invisible force snapped into place, binding Bane and Ronan instead.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled when he saw the panic in Ronan's grey eyes. He took a step forward, relieving the pressure of the arrow and lifted an arm to massage the spot. He felt blood and frowned at his red fingers. Harry turned to face Bane.

Under the moonlight he saw a majestic centaur glaring down at him, unable to move a muscle. His body was muscled and hairy. His face was harsh with long bushy black hair falling all over. His eyebrows were bushy too and his eyes were black and sharp as an owl's. Harry's eyes trailed down his body and he admired the black skin of his hind legs that shone grandly under the moon light.

Harry took a step back to observe the colours of Bane. His red, yellow and blue were bright and active. power, status and knowledge. This creature was a respected leader.

Harry giggled and turned to look at the Ronan. He felt their muscles tense under the hold of the Void. He pulled harder at the Void and exerted more force. The centaurs were strong. He could see their physical power was strengthened by the magic naturally flowing in them. He could see it as an almost invisible shimmer entering through the top of their heads and flowing deep into their bodies right up to the end of their spines.

Suddenly Harry jerked his right arm and two cracking sounds shattered the silence. Harry broke one of their back legs each.

He released the magic holding them and suddenly both were screaming in pain. Harry lashed out with the void again and this time broke one of their front legs. Then a convulsive boom echoed from Harry and the centaurs' eyes went wide with shock as they felt something powerful resonate inside their heads. The pain and sound became too much. They passed out.

Harry giggled. "That was fun," he chuckled. He bent down to pick his wand and concentrated within the Void to summon ropes which quickly wrapped around their necks like a noose. Then Harry began to walk and the centaurs were dragged along.

He had his first test subjects.

That night Harry discovered something about himself. He enjoyed watching the centaurs get trapped by his labyrinth enchantment. Even though the enchantment had eventually failed and crushed them to pulp, he liked watching them try and escape while simply going in circles.

It felt like a game and it had Harry laughing the whole time. Harry discovered that night, that this was a game he enjoyed playing.

* * *

 **First June Nineteen Ninety-Four – Malfoy Manor**

The Dark Lord looked better than he had in days. He was possessing a wizard now, having regained enough strength to move on from possessing muggles to magicals.

Voldemort was lounging in his throne eyeing his returned subordinates with a smirk.

Only a select few were called. Severus Snape, Walden Macnair, Thorfinn Rowle and of course Lucius Malfoy. They were seated in armchairs in an arc before Voldemort.

"Knights," Voldemort whispered. "Do you remember your oaths taken all those years ago on Walpurgis's night?"

All four men raised the left arm and pulled back their sleeves to reveal the faded mark of a snake crawling through the mouth of a human skull. It was darker than before. A sign that Voldemort was returning.

"And yet you broke it." Voldemort's voice was flat. Devoid of emotion. The silence was like suffocating fear to the four. All eyes remained on the wand twirling between thin fingers. Lucius had returned the dark lord's wand which had been hidden in the Auror office for a decade.

Who was going to be chosen for punishment? All of them hoped it wasn't them.

The tension was broken when Voldemort smiled. Although his eyes remained an angry red.

"No matter," Voldemort said. "You must have thought me defeated. Gone forever, allowing you to return to your place as a minority in our world."

"We have done well in that time My Lord," McNair said, his voice holding a hint of reluctance. "The ministry is now under the control of Lucius and because of it, you have returned to us!"

Voldemort chuckled. "You are right. I wouldn't not have returned if that were the case. I was defeated. Our cause demolished." He stared into nothing recalling the time he spent on the run from Dumbledore's hounds. After his defeat in Hogwarts, he had been unable to escape the country. It was what finally forced him into the muggle world to resort to taking possession of muggles. He felt disgusted to be reduced to such a state but he was desperate. Dumbledore was always at his ankles, his fingers almost around them, trying to pull him into oblivion.

"Do you have a report Lucius?" Voldemort asked after a moment.

"The situation has worsened My Lord. The mudbloods have taken control of Godric's Village and raised wards all around. Our Aurors haven't been able to get through them." Lucius hesitated here. Amelia had really hurt them and the Dark Lord had promised to kill her himself. He tried to keep his mind away from his budding plans to get rid of the dark lord. However, his plan had taken a turn for the worse when the dark lord summoned more knights to him. Lucius hadn't expected that. He thought the dark lord would hate to be seen in his weakened state. He was wrong and now his task had grown infinitely harder. He had to buy the others to his side and that was a dangerous risk to take.

Voldemort remained calm even though the rage he felt by the birthplace of a great wizard being sullied by muggleborn scum boiled his blood. "And what of the Goblins," he asked, his voice a hiss of controlled rage. A subtle hint that a bad answer could result in punishment.

"The situation is stable for now My Lord. But the little beasts have increased security at the bank. It's already causing incidents between us and them. Minor ones with the chance of blowing into a Rebellion."

"Send a message through the Prophet advising all to remove their gold from Gringotts, Lucius." "Rowle," he said turned to the dirty blonde wizard. "Commission the Department of Housing to begin construction of a building that can be a worthy alternative to the security of Gringotts."

"At once My Lord," said Rowle.

"What are you waiting for?"

Rowle jumped to his feet and quickly left.

Voldemort chuckled and the others joined. He then turned towards Lucius. "The Auror force needs to be strengthened," he said. "Find Fenir Greyback and start recruiting werewolves into the Auror office."

Macnair gasped. "My Lord! To offer such creatures the badge of an Auror will be seen as weakness!"

Voldemort glared at Macnair dangerously. "And who are these people Macnair? Do they dare oppose my will?"

Macnair quailed under the glare of cold cruel red eyes.

"For that interruption who will liaise with the Vampires," Voldemort said cruelly.

Macnair paled and remembering what happened with Rowle, he stood up. "I shall leave at once My Lord," he said quickly.

"Who gave you leave to stand Macnair?" Voldemort hissed.

Macnair began to sweat. "But before… Rowle..." Macnair braced himself for agony as Voldemort raised his wand.

However, instead of pain, he felt something materialise in his hand. It was a sword. "A gift for the Vampire Lord to ease your entry into his castle."

"Thank you My Lord," Macnair said in relief. "You truly are forgiving and our true leader. Please forgive me for straying from the path of the Knights My Lord!"

"Come back with good news Macnair and I shall. Now leave," he commanded.

It was just Lucius and Severus now. His lips curled into a sneer when he looked at Lucius. The Malfoy playing a game that thoroughly amused him. To think, Lucius believed that he was going to rely on Lucius alone after finding shelter in his home. Word had been sent through Snape to loyal followers. The dark lord was returning.

Sensing the betrayal Lucius was so desperately trying to hide made him want to kill the man for even trying. But there was a reason he called Lucius slippery. Even after betraying him, he had enough uses to be allowed to live. Lucius always managed to slip through the gaps between being killed and staying alive. He'd play Lucius game for now. He lacked power for now.

Voldemort turned to Snape. "And you my Dark Prince. Pray tell what news you have of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Dumbledore knows I am aware of him being the leader of the organisation. He trusts me but not enough to bring me into the order."

Voldemort looked into those coal black eyes and sensed truth. "Give him information about the werewolf recruitment," Voldemort said after thinking for a moment. "Give him Greyback."

"Yes My Lord," Snape said calmly.

"And did you find it?"

"I did My Lord."

Lucius felt his heart skip a beat. Did Snape find what?!

"Poison of a Nundu's breath," Snape said, an inflection of awe in his voice. He removed a tiny vial filled with pink mist.

Lucius felt his plans come crashing down. That was the ingredient the man he killed was tasked to find! Suddenly he began to feel sweat forming at the back of his neck. Did the dark lord know? No! He couldn't. His mind shields had not been intruded upon. He was certain of it. The dark lord had probably contacted others in secret. Lucius cursed in his mind.

"We are getting close," Voldemort said with a second of a glance towards Lucius. The message was not missed by the panicking Minster. "And now," Voldemort continued. "Let us proceed with our final plan. Let us talk about Hogwarts and Azkaban."

Bad things were about to set into motion.

* * *

 **Sixth June Nineteen Ninety-Four - Hogwarts Grounds**

"I want to talk to him."

"Seriously? He doesn't say much Hermione."

Hermione was adamant. She was tired of watching his ace her at every turn when it came to practical magic. He barely did wand motions, never spoke spells and just did what needed done with a look of concentration etched on his face. She remembered that look on his face after he killed the troll and she needed to know if what she had seen was real or was it just the side effect of being in shock. She couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't stand not knowing.

"I just want to talk," Hermione insisted. "I'll be polite. Trust me!"

"It's not that," Daphne said hesitantly. "He just doesn't appreciate … umm... how should I put it… err… disturbed."

"Look," Hermione said with a tone of finality. Being friends with Daphne had done wonders to her confidence. She no longer clung to her housemates in the want for attention. With the muggleborn rebellion picking up pace and Draco Malfoy's return, she had summoned a trait of portraying strength in magic to others and was no longer afraid of raising her hand in class. "Look Daphne. With or without you I'm going to talk to him. Now are you coming or not?"

Daphne resisted the urge to throttle Hermione's windpipe. Bringing Hermione into her circle had been a brilliant decision. The muggleborn witch was brilliant. She studied as hard as Harry except Harry was always studying things that had nothing to do with their curriculum. Till now she had no idea what he kept researching and it had been almost three years since she had come to know him.

"I think I saw him head towards the lake," Daphne sighed. "And don't forget that I warned you about this."

A hint of uncertainty reflected in Hermione's eyes before it disappeared behind determination.

The first day of the final exams had concluded and Hermione had watched Harry breeze through Transfiguration and Charms with a bored expression.

The pair found Harry leaning back against an ancient banyan tree near the lake.

He had no books around him and was staring at the horizon beyond the lake. The sky was a lovely shade of light blue and Sirius was visible in the sky.

Daphne soaked in the scene. Harry looked so normal. So relaxed that she had trouble believing it was him.

"Daphne?"

Daphne hadn't realised she had stopped walking.

"Sorry," she laughed and continued their trek towards him. A small part of her wondered if he'd ever sit with her like that. There was a stab of pain in her heart and she ignored it.

"Hey Harry," she said with a bright smile as soon as they were in talking distance.

Harry lazily turned his head to look at her. His eyes lingered on Hermione for a moment before returning to staring at the colours of the sky. His mind was revolving around magical labyrinths.

After the experiment with the centaurs Harry realised two things. The magic always collapsed after half an hour and the pattern of the labyrinth was always the same. That wouldn't do of course. He had to somehow stabilise the rune structure and he also had to add a randomising factor to his structure. He had to making writing in magic easier and faster.

With every experiment, the list of problems kept growing. It was annoying but he was patient. And the current problems paled in comparison to the problem of power. There's wasn't enough. He wasn't enough! So far his mind was proving to be a blank in finding a way to harness the source to power his runes.

Harry was wondering when would be a good time to try out his latest idea about accessing the source when he heard Daphne. He looked at her and noticed she was accompanied by a girl with bushy brown her that instantly drew attention to itself. The hair looked familiar.

"How did the exams go?" Daphne asked and took a seat in front of Harry. Hermione sat next to Daphne wearing a frown.

"Good," Harry replied shortly. "Yours?" he politely inquired.

Moments where Harry was responsive in a conversation were rare. His voice had changed. Where before it was soft and childish, now there was a strength to volume and firmness in tone. The lack of expression on his face made him sound creepy.

"Pretty good," Daphne replied. "Transfi-"

She was interrupted by Hermione. "How do you do it?" she asked loudly.

Harry observed the girl. Her red was glowing with jealousy. She had a strong green and blue as well. She loved knowledge, Harry noted. She was angry too, angry at him.

Harry smiled and his eyes reflected excitement. Did she want to attack him as well? Like Draco?

"How do I do what?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Magic!" Hermione exclaimed. "How do you do it! You don't say spells, you barely lift your wand and yet you transfigured a teapot into a tortoise with barely a twitch in your face!"

Daphne felt it. She had grown attuned to it. Harry's magic was radiating power. Hermione was going to be in danger if she kept this up. Daphne had to end it before it took a turn for the worse.

Harry understood what the brunette was asking. His lips curled into an amused smile. "I respect it," Harry said. "Unlike the rest of you."

Hermione goggled. "What? What does that even mean?"

Her red began to fade and orange began to pulse. Harry felt disappointed. Her emotions changed too quickly. Her hate lost intensity.

"You are incapable of understanding magic," Harry whispered darkly. "Keep waving your wand like a fool thinking you are talking to magic. You don't even know the volume and nature of what you are capable of using."

Hermione frowned. "Are you talking about Arithmancy?" she huffed. "Because what you're saying is making no sense at all."

"Alright," Daphne said quickly when she saw anger behind Harry's eyes. Hermione had pissed him off with her statement. She glared at Hermione and turned to Harry. "Say, the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year is on tenth. You want to join us Harry? You haven't come all year!"

Hogsmeade. The word did ring a bell in Harry's mind. Professor Flitwick had asked him about it sometime back but Harry had refused being busy with improving his labyrinth rune enchantment.

Hermione stood up with a sigh. "I'm sorry if I came on a bit too strongly," she apologised earnestly. "It's just that what you're doing is impossible according to spell theory."

Harry had lost interest. His mind had latched on to one word Hermione had said. Arithmancy: The mathematics behind spell crafting. A complex form of numbers that are used in the calculation of wand moments and words to create a spell.

His mind was linking Arithmancy with the problem of accessing the source. His mind began to work backwards, if the source was infinite how then, to calculate the necessary power required by the runes? Could the answer to the problem be hidden in mathematics behind spell creation?

"Harry? Hogsmeade?" Daphne said after a moment. But Harry had spaced out.

"Sure," Harry replied absently and the rest of the world faded away. His mind began to revolve around Arithmancy, categorising what he knew and what he needed to research.

He could see an answer to his problem. It was cloudy still but it was only a matter of time till the film over his eyes cleared.

* * *

 **Ninth June Nineteen Ninety-Four – Forbidden Forest**

Exams were over and Harry was eager to go into the forest. He traced the rune of cloaking on his forehead and took off towards the forest. The last exam was just over and in the excitement of other students, no one had their attention on him. Even the haze was not around.

Light was still bright in the sky when he entered the comfort of the forbidden forest and by the time he reached his training grounds, the sky had turned dark blue.

Harry took off his shoes and dug his feet into one of the pools of sand that dotted the great divide between the two forests. He had discovered, after a little research into centaurs and the forest that the forbidden forest was actually divided into two halves. The side towards the school, the centaurs controlled and they kept all the dangerous animals confined to the other half of the forest. The half Harry hadn't explored yet.

It was a full moon tonight. A wolf's howl could be heard faintly from the far side of the unexplored forest.

Harry had not yet succeeded in perfectly integrating the labyrinth and the desert runes structures. For now, he decided to focus on powering the rune. A method that required a different approach. By now, he was certain, his runes had no effect on beings with consciousness. The white would not allow them to be affected which was another strange problem.

Bearing in mind he was taking a risk with his latest idea Harry pulled at the void and carefully began to wrap it around the length of his arm. He closed his eyes and pictured the rune structure in his mind and focused on recreating them with the Void. Harry made the void razor sharp and suddenly his arm began to sport thousands of cuts in the shape of runes.

Harry cried out. It hurt more than he'd imagined.

Blood began to pour out of him in rivulets and Harry focused on magic rather than pain. He directed the void threw the runes on his arm. The runes began to glow. But seconds later nothing happened. Harry began to feel dizzy with blood loss. He growled and quickly grabbed at a vial of blood replenishing potion he had begun to carry around with him to prevent being caught like last time.

Harry concentrated harder and dug deep into the Void. He imagined it flowing through the crown of his head into his arm and powering the runes. What he was doing was dangerous. Every book said it. Even the dark ones. But Harry didn't care.

A scream of effort escaped from his throat and then something strange happened.

Harry felt his body seize. The Void began to expand like never before and every vein in his body felt like they were overflowing with power. Harry couldn't breathe suddenly. His eyes bulged with the fear of exploding. His mind was going into panic mode.

The runes on his arm stopped bleeding and yellow lines began to crawl out of the runes. They crawled down his torso, his legs, and began to rapidly spread on the ground. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He had to stop it. He had to or else he felt he was going to die. It was too much!

With all his will power, Harry broke the connection magic had with the runes and immediately felt an exhaustion he had never felt before. He collapsed. He was panting. His mind was reeling. He couldn't see. He had no strength to even open his eyes.

He felt sand beneath his face and was breathing in tiny particles of it but he couldn't summon the effort to move. His body was shaking. He was feeling empty.

Time moved forward until Harry finally felt like he had the strength to open his eyes. When he did, he saw white. White sand as far as the beginning of the other side of the forest. His legs still trembled but he managed to force his body into a kneeling position and looked around.

His eyes widened in awe. The divide between the two forests was now a long stretch of sand. Parts of both forests had been eaten away by his magic.

Harry's jaw dropped. He looked up and saw the full moon shining down on him in all its glory. The night had finally set in.

This was it. This was his dream. This was what he wanted to see.

"Oh Merlin."

It wasn't Harry who had spoken.

Harry's head turned sharply. In his weakened state, he didn't sense anyone approaching.

It was Professor Tonks.

"What is this?" she gasped, her eyes wide. "Harry?" She had seen him sneak out of the castle. Since the hall was full she hadn't cloaked herself and that decision turned out to be the smart one as Harry had not sensed her following him. He had disappeared from sight at one point but she found his trail in the forest and had managed to track him. It had taken her a while and she had had to fight off an Acromantula but she had managed to find him. She had found him in what looked like a desert, curled up and bleeding all over the sand.

She couldn't understand what she was seeing. What the hell was going here?!

Harry recognized the magic. She was the cloaked haze! His face transformed into an ugly snarl. Murder shone in his eyes. Tonks had entered his sanctuary. This was unforgivable.

He was still weak after the experiment but the rage that coursed through him summoned enough of the Void to help him stand on his feet.

The breeze died down. Tonks drew her wand.

Tonks had always sensed darkness in Harry. As a metamorphmagus she intuitively knew Harry was wearing a mask and she had always wondered what was beneath the surface.

"So you reveal yourself to me finally," Tonks says with a nervous smile. This was not what she had expected. She was looking at the face of a monster. Green eyes dancing with mad rage, a loose irrational snarl revealing teeth. Hair windswept and wearing black robes.

Runes were carved in his bloody arm and steam was rising from them. Tonks noticed all the cuts were slowly healing.

"You shouldn't be here," he hissed. This was his secret. How dare she intrude!

Tonks noticed the change in his body. It was taking the shape of a predator gearing up to pounce.

She mentally prepared herself and took a step back. She didn't understand what was going on here but she realised she was in danger. This was the danger Dumbledore had warned her about.

"Why don't we go back to the castle eh Harry," she said brightly, buying time as she loosened her magic, preparing for battle. She knew it from the moment she saw his eyes. She was only going to leave here if she disarmed the boy and had him trussed like a pig.

Determination filled her mind. Her Auror training coming to fore.

Harry saw her dig her heels into the ground in defence and he growled. He felt the Void weak. He was still recovering from the backlash of the magic being cut so suddenly. He tightening his grip on his wand. He was going to need it.

It happened suddenly.

He snarled and slashed his wand in an arc towards her. A scythe of magic rushed at Tonks and he followed that up by running towards her, pushing the void through his wand to surround and crush her into pulp.

Tonks was ready. She conjured a wall surrounding her from all sides and felt it rattle when a powerful force slammed into it.

Dangerous and menacing magic began to crack her brick wall and Tonks cursed. She couldn't apparate. The anti apparation wards of Hogwarts, stretching for miles into the forest. No one knew where it ended, except that it was inaccessible.

She pointed her wand up and conjured a rope that clung to a branch. She rose out of her column like a rocket just as Harry slammed his palm into it, exploding it to dust.

Adrenaline rushed through Tonks. This was no child she was duelling!

He was physical she mentally noted as she leaped on to the tree and cast a stupefy at him. That meant she had to keep moving.

Her eyes widened when she felt _something_ close in on her. As a metamorphmagus she could sense magic. Something that other Aurors felt jealous about. It was a very useful tool in a fight.

She jumped down to the ground to avoid whatever it was and felt shock when the branch she was on was crushed to dust.

Harry was on her in an instant. His body was always moving, guided by the Void. He focused on his violet and red. Clairvoyance and power. It almost allowed him to almost see her movements before she completed them.

He slammed his wand into the sand and focused.

Tonks cried in shock when the sand around her began to wrap itself around her legs and rise.

She used her metamorph powers to thin her legs and rolled aside.

Harry growled and redirected the sand but Tonks had already jumped back into the trees, realising it was safer.

Tonks heart was beating fiercely. She could feel the fear, the excitement, the thrill of a battle to death. She grinned mockingly at Harry. "That all you got," she shouted. Her inner voice screamed at her for provoking him.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Rage was consuming him. His prey was slippery. Suddenly all the sand began to rise.

Tonks realised she had to retreat to Hogwarts. She was going to have to get help to subdue this monster. He was using magic in a way she had never seen before. She turned and cast a charm on her legs that allowed her to run and jump faster.

Harry saw she was about to run and quickly drew a rune in the ground with his wand. Tonks was on the move and he poured his magic into the rune.

The ground began to shake and crack open. Trees groaned as they were shaken and almost uprooted.

Tonks, at her speed didn't see it coming and lost her balance and fell.

She slammed into a tree trunk and felt her ankle crack when she hit the ground. She groaned in pain as her vision turned hazy. "Shit!" she cursed.

Tonks had not gotten far. She scrambled under some roots in an attempt to hide. Her hands were trembling and blood was pounding in her ears. She was about to cast the cloaking spell to hid her when the root crumbled and Harry pounced atop her.

She felt steel pierce her skin. Her eyes went wide with the shock and she felt time slow down to a crawl.

Tonks choked as her lungs filled with blood. She was dying. Murdered by a monster. Agony filled her mind.

Harry felt her blood spill out of her heart as he straddled her and with a six inch steel knife buried to hilt between her breasts.

As she lay bleeding to death, she felt one his hands shift.

A foreign thought entered Harry's mind as he gleefully watched the life fade from Tonk's eyes. Harry realised how soft her chest was. He felt an impulse to feel them. His palms loosened grip of the knife and slid over her robes. A different sort of pleasure shivered through him. He didn't understand it at all but strangely he _liked_ it.

 _Oh god!_ Tonks screamed in her agony consumed mind. Her eyes looked into the madness that danced in Harry's with horror.

She died with terror in her eyes.

Days later, when she was found in the forest, the medical examiner wrote a footnote in his medical report.

 _If it weren't for the obvious stab wound in her chest and broken ankle, I could have sworn this woman was killed by the forbidden curse._


	26. Part Four - Prophecy Realised

**_Part Four -_** ** _Prophecy Realised_**

 **Cat or Mouse?**

Harry was breathing slow. His exhales were long. He could hear the sound of his breathing overpower his ears as Tonks went still beneath him. He began to feel her body cool as the colours in her body began to fade.

The adrenaline that drove him began to wear off and black spots began to dance in front of his eyes. He rolled off her tiredly and took a moment to catch his breath. The Void escaped his hold and he felt like his body had been wrung through a cloth strainer. It was the first time he had been stretched beyond his limits and in-spite of the exhaustion that reeled through his body, Harry was smiling with his eyes closed. He felt fulfilled under the full moon light with blood soaking his hands.

When Harry opened his eyes, the stars were brighter and the moon had travelled halfway across the sky. It took him a second to realise he had lost consciousness. Looking at the moon he figured it had been close to three hours since…

He glanced to his left where the body of Tonks lay. He had to cover his tracks. He had killed a Hogwarts professor. This was definitely grounds for expulsion.

Irritation lanced through his gut. Why was did she have to follow him in the first place. Now he had the task of cleaning up a battle that tore through the various parts of the forest.

The Void was still weak. He tried to summon it but his body shivered in pain as soon as he tried. He had to wait. He had to rest. He had to think.

Disposing the body was the wisest course of action but as soon as the thought came to him, Harry rejected it. This was a great kill. He didn't like the idea of it disappearing forever. No. He had to make a show of it. He wanted her to be found. Without the murder being linked to him of course. It didn't feel right hiding her forever. He felt proud of the kill. It was his hardest yet.

His mind drew a blank though when he tried to think how to frame the body. No ideas were coming to him.

Harry sighed and then realised he was still laying on his back on the ground. The wetness in the soil had seeped into his clothes. Taking a deep breath and testing the strength in his limbs, Harry struggled into a sitting position. Then he felt movement in his pockets and remembered he had a pepper up potion as well. He noticed his hands were trembling with exhaustion as he dug into his robe pocket and drank the potion.

Immediately strength returned to his body and the void swelled. Potions, Harry realised, were not as pointless as he had thought before. He was gaining a new found respect for the art. It was a realm of magic that was worth exploring.

With the return of strength, the ideas came to him faster. One in particular stood out. She had a hole in her chest. A hole that could easily be shaped into looking like the stab of a giant spider.

Harry grinned as the idea began to take form. He could stage a battle between Tonks and an Acromantula and make it look like they both killed each other. Yes. It was definitely possible to recreate.

Harry stood up. He gently tugged on the Void, using as little as possible. The potion may have returned his power but when its effects wore off, he was going to be sick. He had to move quickly.

The Void wrapped around Tonks body and gently lifted her off the ground. The look of horror in her eyes was permanently etched. It made Harry laugh.

Together, they moved towards the path commonly traversed by Acromantula and Hagrid.

The night was dark still.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Tenth June Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogsmeade**

People, Harry was quickly relearning, were annoying and stupid. He had decided to accompany Daphne to a village that was a popular destination according to Daphne. He had only agreed because he had to lay low until Tonks was found. There was a flood of anticipation rising in his blood. Every second he was awake; he was waiting to hear it. He was waiting for the news to break out. He wanted to know what people were going to say about it.

It was a new emotion in him. The thrill of running the risk of being discovered. The image of the horror in everyone's eyes if they found out about him sent jolts of pleasure down his spine.

Harry was going to kill again. The seed that lay dormant in him had grown into a sapling. And for it to grow it needed to be fed. The hunger would gnaw at him soon if the children around him didn't stop chattering about pointless things like boyfriends and Quidditch.

He kept hearing about a rebellion and its ideals almost made him laugh. Harry gathered, from all the arguments coming and going since they had come to the village, that people wanted equal rights or something along those lines. Harry only rolled his eyes and never spoke up. The idea of wanting and asking was stupid. He believed in taking.

Only the strong survive. The desert would show it.

"Wasn't Professor Tonks supposed to meet us at Three Broomsticks?"

Harry's pulse quickened. Tonks. The memory of her rearranged body flashed in his mind.

"She didn't turn up," Daphne said with a frown.

It was a beautiful day. Daphne was accompanied by Hermione Granger, Tracey Davies, Blaise Zabini, Susan Bones and Ron Weasley. There was a warmth in the air as the sun beat down on them thanks to a clear blue sky.

The group had become fast friends after the beginning of the rebellion. Ron Weasley accepting Daphne helped rouse more support for Daphne. She was looked at as a spokesperson for change and after Lucius Malfoy was elected Minister, like-minded people met in secret and talked. Daphne secretly had most of the castle behind her, influenced by her voice. The six friends had become a common sight over the last months of their third year. Many a times they were joined by many from other houses as well.

Today, however, surprised looks were directed at the short, thin boy, with dark hair swept neatly to one side, walking alongside them.

 _"Look,"_ they whispered. _"It's Harry Potter!"_

 _"My god, why is he so tanned?"_

 _"Is this the first time he's coming to the village?"_

 _"Can you see the scar?" "No, his hair is blocking it."_

 _"He's such a freak,"_ said some. _"Since when does he hang out with Daphne?"_

 _"I've heard they're close and he's supposed to be some kind of genius." "Well of course! He defeated you know who!" "So you think he's a muggleborn supporter?"_

 _"Well he's with Daphne isn't he? He's probably on her side."_

The whispers kept coming when they had left the castle after it had taken Daphne quite a few glares to get them to shut up. The growing anger in Harry's eyes had receded after that to her relief.

"Maybe she's busy with papers and stuff," Ron said. Ron kept glancing at Harry out of the corner of his eye with a look of awe and wonder. He had seen the magic Harry was capable of. He wondered what abilities the boy who lived had.

"Maybe," Daphne said doubtfully.

"Is there a library here?" Harry asked suddenly. His voice cut through them like the snap of a whip and all of them jumped to attention.

"What!?" Susan squeaked. His voice was so soft and powerful, she thought as soon as she realised it was him who spoke.

"Library," Harry repeated.

"Err," Hermione began. "Not that I know of."

Harry shrugged. "Pity," he said.

"Look," Blaise said suddenly. "There's Draco. Who is he talking to?"

Susan squinted and then scowled. "That's Rita Skeeter. What's she doing here?"

Harry noticed the lady. She wore blood red elongated square spectacles that where angled at the top edges. Her lipstick matched her spectacles and her eyes were acid green. Her skin was firm and had a layer of well applied makeup that seemed to highlight her dimple when she smiled. Sun-kissed blonde hair was elegantly curled in swirls and fell softly above her shoulders. She was dressed with a black robe that was speckled with red sparkles.

In her hand she had a crocodile skin bag and in the other a magical voice recorder.

What captured his interest was the colours of her core. Her orange and yellow were the brightest he had ever seen in a person.

Unconsciously he began to walk towards her Daphne looked at Harry with startle. She exchanged a bemused look with Hermione and they followed him.

"Father believes those who deserve their place in society should be recognised," Draco was saying. "The Werewolves are not monsters by choice. There are some who are capable of being upstanding citizens of our world."

"Well isn't that a well-rehearsed statement," Daphne remarked out loud drawing the attention of Draco and Rita.

This was a woman who knew how to destroy people and took pleasure in it, Harry thought when he felt her cores. She was a sponge and secrets were water to her. Harry instinctively went on guard when her eyes broke away from Draco's and narrowed down at him.

She was a silent predator, Harry realised. She systematically took down her prey from afar. That was what her colours told him. He had to careful of this woman.

Rita Skeeter turned sharply towards Daphne, her hawk like eyes narrowed and a small smile lit her face. Harry saw her orange pulse. The reporter was excited.

"Daphne Greengrass," Rita exclaimed. "The gem of Hogwarts. Your name has been making rounds at the office for some time now. Your father would be proud," she said with a knowing smile.

Rita was sharp. Daphne could feel the depth of the statement cutting right into her.

"If only he were here to see it," Daphne replied with a sad smile. She was getting good at this game and Rita was an interesting test for her.

"And who is this?" Rita asked, looking at Harry. His scar was hidden behind his long hair.

"Harry Potter," Ron said quickly.

Daphne glanced at Ron with annoyance. The redhead was irritating but his family had clout now. She had to keep him close considering the status of his father. She looked at Harry and found him staring at Rita with some interest.

"Harry Potter!" Rita exclaimed and her magical recorder zoomed between the two of them. "I have longed to meet you after your unfortunate hospitalization. Now, Dumbledore and your godfather never revealed what really happened to you. Would you like to make a statement? Maybe even reach out to those who look up to you as the boy who saved the world?"

Her red stank of lies and manipulation.

Harry smiled chillingly. "No thank you," he said politely. He looked into her eyes and saw dangerous green look back at him. "It was nice meeting you," Harry said and with the grace of tranquil waters, he turned and walked away.

The rest of the group turned towards Daphne, wondering if she'd call him back but Daphne didn't. Instead she laughed. "He doesn't talk much," she said airily, like the friend closest to Harry who knew him best.

"I can see that," Rita said slowly. Her eyes followed Harry as he walked back towards the castle. "Such interesting eyes he has," she added, smiling strangely. As if she was privy to an insight none of the others could hope to make. "So chilling," she whispered.

Once he had disappeared down the slope leading to the castle Rita returned her focus on Draco and Daphne.

"Now," she said, her voice returning to her previous levels of enthusiasm. "What can you gems of the future of our world tell me today? Perhaps an exclusive about the environment at Hogwarts after all that has happened?"

Daphne and Draco squared off. This was an opportunity neither of them would back down from.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Eleventh June Nineteen Ninety-Four - Forbidden Forest**

Just as Harry foresaw, Hagrid turned out to be the one to find her. At first Hagrid had not known what made him more distraught. The death of Aragog's mate, Mosag: the co-founder of the Acromantula colony in the forbidden forest. Or the body of Auror Tonks, who had died fighting the largest and most powerful member of the colony.

The forest around them was completely in ruins. Trees were broken in half and the ground looked like a battle of giants had taken place in the vicinity.

Currently the area was being cordoned and a few Aurors and Albus were examining the area. Hagrid sniffed quietly, big drops of tears dripping over his thick beard.

"Will you be alright Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"I will be," Hagrid said, struggling to get words out.

Dumbledore looked sadly at the body of Tonks, now on a stretcher with a healer examining her body. The large hole in her chest with a broken leg buried in it made it obvious what the cause of death was.

A team from Amos Diggory's department was due to arrive to check on the Acromantula and collect the poison.

"What was she even doing here?" asked a tall black Auror sadly. His voice was deep like a baritone and wore a purple square shaped hat on his head. He wore red robes with a tag on his breast pocket that said captain.

"I don't know Kingsley," Dumbledore replied. He had suspicions, but no clues or evidence to back them up."

More Aurors began to arrive and a team from the Department of Magical Creatures; DMC in short, began to dissect the Acromantula.

Hagrid had howled at the sight and Dumbledore was forced to take him away.

"Tis so sad Professor," Hagrid cried. "I don' unda'stand what Mosag was doing hunting out here in the first place!"

"Calm down Hagrid," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure there's an explaination."

Hagrid didn't listen. He was distraught. "And you know what's strange? There are no tracks that show them leading ere! It's so strange Albus!"

No tracks? Dumbledore thought. "That is strange," Dumbledore agreed softly, his mind turning. "Are you sure Hagrid?"

"Of course professor. I'ma good tracker and I saw no sign of Mosag or poor Tonks leading to each other. It's like they just apparated and fought."

"Which could mean they were brought here," Dumbledore said softly.

Hagrid stopped crying at the look of seriousness on Albus's face. "Professor? What are yea thinking?"

"Do me a favour Hagrid. See if there are any other tracks leading to or away from here. Also speak with the centaurs. It's possible they might have seen or heard something," Dumbledore said. His words held steel. Maybe this was no accident. If so, who was the murderer?

Dumbledore's mind went straight to a particular boy who was a student at his school. A boy who he knew to be ruthless and powerful. The boy from the prophecy.

Harry Potter.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Seventeenth June Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: The Great Hall.**

The news was out. Everybody knew what had happened and not even a single glance was sent his way in suspicion. It thrilled Harry. He had never felt such excitement in him before. He was sitting among people who had no idea he was the boy who orchestrated Tonks fight to the death with the biggest Acromantula in the forest. They had no idea, he was the real power that held their awe.

He felt special.

Only Dumbledore's gaze put him off. The headmaster kept looking at him and since her death, Harry could feel him judging. Evaluating. Analysing his every move.

Harry couldn't wait to get away from the castle. Away from the penetrating eyes of the headmaster. Silently telling him that if evidence was found he was in trouble. Harry couldn't wait to leave. Even if it was back to the warded prison that was his godfather's green lands.

The school was gathered for the end of year feast in the great hall to pay homage to Professor and Auror: Tonks. She was represented by no one from the Auror office.

Kingsley Shacklebolt however, one of the Aurors who didn't run with Bones, came to the castle in plain clothes. He wore his traditional purple robes and stood in one corner of the hall with his arms folded and face grim. He was deeply upset when Minister Malfoy refused his request to grant Tonks an Auror burial service. The minister argued, Tonks had left her office to become a teacher. The Ministry was not going to spare expenses for a member not under their banner.

He was accompanied by an invisible man.

Alastor 'mad eye' Moody stood beside him under an invisibility cloak.

"Well?" he asked gruffly, keeping his volume low.

"I'm in," Shacklebolt replied. His voice firm with determination.

"Tonight. Grimmauld Street. Be near the entrance to the park at ten in the night."

Kingsley didn't reply. Mad eye was gone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifth July Nineteen Ninety-Four – The Forbidden Forest: Centaur's Circle.**

Seven centaurs stood around the stone pillar deep in the forest. There were thousands of shapes engraved into the pillar and it stood tall, stretching beyond the treetops.

Standing at the edge of the circle was Albus Dumbledore.

Hagrid had finally made contact and Dumbledore had been summoned.

"We have news young Albus," said the oldest of them.

Dumbledore kept his head lowered in respect to the elder ones. "Hagrid mentioned something about danger?"

"Jupiter burns with fire Albus Dumbledore. Neptune joins him predicting a looming threat."

Dumbledore kept silent. He knew the centaurs would get to the point eventually. He had learnt being cryptic from them after all.

"Two brothers disappeared chasing a monster."

"A monster Elder Juran?"

"Yes. It holds territory near the edge of our forest. We believe it came from the other side."

The other side. The unexplored forest. Few had entered. None yet had come out.

"Have the Centaurs learnt anymore Elder Juran?"

The old centaur shook his head. His long grey mane flew all over the place.

"The magic is dangerous there young Albus. Go North if you wish to learn more. But be wary. The stars tell us the monster is the one who held the fate of the two who were lost."

All the centaurs neighed in unison and stamped their feet.

The meeting was over.

Dumbledore bowed to them and left. Centaurs did not stand on ceremony. Dumbledore began to head North. He had to know more. There was something big happening right under his nose. He could sense it. He was going to uncover the truth one way or another.


	27. Discovery

**Discovery**

The centaurs don't go near the breach between the forests. The magic warned them away. It is the lair of a monster. They shouldn't intrude. The monster wouldn't like it.

Dumbledore ignored all the warnings that came his way. He could feel how strongly the magic of the forest was pushing him away. His magic responded to the warnings fiercely and he carried forward unimpeded.

There was a thickness in magic now. It felt thick, impenetrable. Harsh. More importantly it was familiar.

This was Harry's lair. The boy from the prophecy was the monster the centaurs feared. The tiny ray of hope he had for Harry diminished. He could no longer deny the truth that had been clear to him from the day he met Harry in Janus. He could no longer be blinded by the prophecy. The light had gone and he saw the truth.

If Harry had to be locked up he needed proof. Proof that Harry killed Tonks. Even after Harry had killed Remus he had held onto hope. Harry was attacked by a werewolf and not Remus. He knew that. Harry was only defending himself. And killing his relatives had only been a reaction to the extremes of abuse he had endured in that hell. Harry was a victim. He was a hero. He was the boy from the prophecy. He was the one who was going to defeat the Dark Lord for good.

But now. His hope hung on a thread that would either snap or remain depending on what he found when he reached the origin of the harsh magic.

He moved through the forest silently. He took sure and measured steps, always watching for signs. The magic felt like a strong wind now. It was always against him and his magic cut through it with the strength of a mountain.

Suddenly he saw it. A clearing a few meters to his left. He could see the moonlight shining through.

It took him a moment to understand what he had just walked into.

It was a divide between two forests made of sand. Sand that couldn't possibly exist in the Forbidden Forest.

"Stop," Dumbledore said out loud. His mind was leaping to conclusions. He had to think. He had to connect the dots. Moments in time stretching back to the day Harry murdered his relatives.

He tried to see the pattern. The shape Harry's life had taken. The day he heard the prophecy. The day he met Harry. The day he saw the remains of the troll. Trelawney's second prophecy. The night he saw Harry rip out the heart of a werewolf. The picture of Harry in the middle of the desert. The picture Snape saw in Harry's mind. And now a desert in the breach between forests.

Was it all part of the prophecies? What was going to happen? What did all of this mean? What did desert's have to do with this?

"So many things are happening," Dumbledore whispered. Muggleborns were rebelling. A pureblood bigot was Minister. The Dark Lord was returning. Unrest was rising in the Goblin nation. The centaurs were predicting a coming danger. Trelawney's prophecy predicted devastation and Harry Potter was walking down a dark path.

Magical Britain was stressed to its limits. Dumbledore knew the flashpoint was close. He had no idea what was going to happen when their world reached that point. The future was blotted with dark clouds.

He sighed and held his wand to his temple. Dumbledore closed his eyes and pulled his wand away. A thick string of silver mist came along with the wand and he directed it into a vial he had in his cloak. He was going to go deeper into the thoughts and memories later. First, he had to examine the magic here. Harry's magic. And also to find any evidence that Harry was the one who had killed Tonks.

Dumbledore knelt on the sand and placed both his hands on the surface and concentrated. He let his magic flow and connected with the nature of magic in the sand. Seconds passed by and then Dumbledore withdrew his hands. There was a frown on his face. The sand was not natural. The magic felt like transfiguration beyond anything he had ever seen. He wasn't able to understand it. It felt real. Permanent. There was no dispelling the magic and reverting it to its original state. What kind of magic was this?

Dumbledore stood and looked around. There had to be more to learn from here. The mystery of Harry's magic was getting stranger. Was the sand always here, between the forests, or was this a result of Harry? What was Harry doing here? Why did they consider him a monster? Did Harry kill the centaurs and if so, where were the bodies?

Dumbledore spent the night in Harry's desert. Searching. Analysing. Trying to understand the mystery that was Harry.

* * *

 **Twentieth July Nineteen Ninety-Four – Ministry of Magic: Minster of Magic's office.**

There was a knock on the door and without waiting for a response it was opened.

A balding redhead man walked in with barely controlled rage.

"My department is to be _dissolved_?!"

"Ah Arthur. Please have a seat," Lucius said politely.

Arthur gripped the top of the chair and dug his nails into the wood. "You can't do this Lucius."

"I am the Minister for Magic. I think you'll find I can."

"The Wizenga-"

"The Wizengamot has been assimilated into the ministry. They are no longer a law making body. I thought you knew that," Lucius interrupted. "Now. If you'd take a seat and have a cup of tea, you'd be able to learn about the new department I want you to head."

Arthur went blank. "What?"

"Just sit Weasley," Lucius growled, his patient and polite mask slipping.

Arthur glared loathingly at Lucius and took a seat anyway. It was the first time he had come into the office and as Lucius sent a memo to his assistant for tea, Arthur couldn't help but be impressed.

The room was cleverly decorated with green and silver, not took much that one would immediately think Slytherin, and not too less that one would think him cheap. There were little tables and shelfs all around, decorated with books and trophies. The walls were high and bare, painting a soft white that seemed to glow enough to light the office of the minister. His table itself was seven feet wide and four feet long, made of oak and polished to a gleam and was placed just behind centre of the room.

The door opened quietly and a terribly ugly woman walked in. Arthur startled. She looked like a toad. This was Dolores Umbridge. She was reduced to the position of assistant?

Dolores walked in with her chin up and eyes resentful. She placed a cup before the minister and Arthur before sneering at Arthur leaving just as fast as she came in.

Lucius took a sip and sighed. "I want you to head the Department of Extraction and Protection. Or Deep, as some have taken to call it."

"What is its function?" Arthur asked slowly. All this was sounding very suspicious. Something was going on.

"To take muggleborn children from their homes and bring them to the ministry to be fostered."

Arthur's nostrils flared at the implications.

"Fostered into what exactly?" he asked coldly.

"Into the future of this world," Lucius replied coolly. "This world is facing a crisis unlike anything ever before. Muggle influence has corrupted our values and reduced our society into bickering fools. This has to stop. And for it to stop, the poison must be cut off from the source.

"Now. Arthur. You can either agree to take over this role and become its champion. Or you can join Diggory's department. I hear he is need of a regulator for dragon dung control."

Arthur felt his mouth sour. This was Lucius Malfoy. The real man behind the mask of so called values. Blackmailer and manipulator. It was why he hated the man so deeply.

"I need an answer today Arthur," Lucius prompted.

Arthur's ears were red. His eyes were twitching with anger but he forced a smile on his face which came out as a grimace.

"I'll do it," he choked out.

"Do what?"

"Head the D.E.P," he said stiffly. He couldn't say no. He needed to be at the ministry if he wanted to make a difference. He would never stop fighting this tyranny and he believed in doing it from within.

Lucius smiled knowingly. "I was wrong about you," he said. "You're much smarter than I gave you credit for."

He then took his quill and wrote out a memo. "Take this to Dolores. She will take you to your new office. I trust you will like it."

Arthur snatched it out of his extended hand and stormed out, slamming the door as he left.

Lucius chuckled. That had been intimately satisfying to do.

He looked down at the paper he was reading before Arthur barged in and his amusement was lost. Rita Skeeter had published her chaos inducing article and this time the fire was burning his way. He was furious.

Auror Tonks, one of Dumbledore's people's, death had been reported as a conspiracy in the Slytherin house orchestrated by Draco: his son.

Lucius was beyond furious.

 _"Tonks was a muggle lover. She got what she deserved."_ Draco was quoted saying this in an argument with Daphne Greengrass that was now revealed by Skeeter who had witnessed it all.

The latest by Skeeter had caused more employees to resign and the mudblood resistance had only grown stronger and they had annexed another magical village.

Lucius's complications grew worse. The worst was he couldn't do a thing to her. If she so much as sensed danger, he knew she was capable of destroying his world. No. Rita could not be touched for now.

The rebellion had now made their own government and had announced they were going to meet the muggle prime minister and inform him of the news.

The Dark Lord was going to lose patience once he heard that and order them to attack Godric's Village. He wanted the territory back in their control.

He remembered another thing and wrote out a memo which was flew to the Auror department. He had to know if Bellatrix and the others had reached Saint Mungo's. He hadn't met them yet. They were due to be transported in secret to his Manor.

Lucius was understandably anxious about that. Most of them were insane murderers, his sister in law included. The Dark Lord was cementing his return to power. Every day, he got stronger and the ingredients for the ritual were almost all there. He had lost but he was glad he was alive. He knew the dark lord had become aware of his actions and had chosen to remain silent about it.

There was a knock on the door.

"It's Ludo Bagman," came Dolores's voice.

"Send him in," Lucius replied.

A rotund man wearing bright yellow robes walked with a bright smile on his face that looked like it had seen better days.

"Lucius!" Ludo exclaimed. "I've got great news! Bulgaria has agreed to come for the Quidditch world cup in spite of all the new laws and regulations."

"Congratulations," Lucius said. "So only Greece has refused to come to Britain."

"Sadly," Bagman said. "They have a great beater squad."

Despite the political upheaval and unrest in England. The Quidditch world cup remained on track. Muggleborns were barred from it. Even the England squad had no muggleborns.

Voldemort had instructed them to remain quiet on the presence of creatures and muggleborns from other countries. The dark lord was patient. Sooner or later, the magical world would fall under his command. England was already his. His defeat at Godric Hollow seemed like it was necessary for him to disappear. He could now see his path to complete dominance.

Back in Malfoy Manor Voldemort took possession of a new host. One who had volunteered for the position and was a strong wizard as well.

Barty Crouch Junior would die for his Lord and Master.

* * *

 **Thirty First July Nineteen Ninety-Four – Sirius's Cottage**

"Happy birthday Harry," Sirius said and handed Harry a small package.

James had been shifted to a muggle institution after much persuasion by Dumbledore. Dumbledore was insistent on a close eye being kept on Harry and he was urging Sirius to try and bond with Harry.

Sirius's resistance eventually crumbled. He had hated responsibility then and he hated it now. He supposed there was a time he could have loved Harry and want to take care of him but his soul was gone. He was empty inside.

Harry took the package wrapped in newspaper without question. He didn't understand the point of this.

"Open it."

They were in the living room. The curtains were open and the fire was put out. Fresh yellow light from the rising sun was streaming in, showing a trail of dust floating in the room.

Harry carefully opened the package and a red cloak fell out. He gasped as he felt the material and saw its colours. The cloak had an aura of purple intermingled with strands of white. It felt like running water in his hands and his eyes widened when his arm disappeared from sight when he picked it up.

"It was your father's," Sirius said softly. He lowered himself into the couch and sighed. "Dumbledore had it and I felt it was high time it was passed on to you."

Harry remained silent. His eyes were silent as they bored into his. He blinked and then sat in the couch opposite.

The air was warming up as the sun rose higher. Harry felt the heat pleasantly wash against his face and he smiled. It almost felt like a desert sun rise without the endless open space.

"I'm sorry about what you had to go through with the Dursley's," Sirius suddenly said. "I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I truly wish I had taken you in after what happened to your parents." His eyes grew haunted. "Unfortunately I couldn't.

"I want you to know that what the Dursley's did to you was barbaric," Sirius finished earnestly.

"You sound like Psychiatrist Beverly," Harry said strangely. She kept saying it was wrong too. Harry didn't see what was wrong. He had been weaker than them at first and then he became stronger and survived. It was that simple.

"A what?"

"She was trying to understand the void."

Sirius didn't understand at all. "Er, did she?" But Harry was talking. That was progress sort of in the direction Dumbledore wanted.

Harry's eyes shifted towards the fireplace as he thought about the question. "No," he answered finally. "She talked a lot. Our last session she wanted me to understand emotions. That was when the Headmaster took me to Hogwarts."

So Harry was getting some kind of treatment at the juvenile home and then Albus came and brought him to Hogwarts, Sirius figured.

He felt like slapping his palm against his forehead repeatedly. How had he not seen the need before? How had Dumbledore missed it? Had he been so blinded by the prophecy? If Harry had been left alone there was a chance the muggles could have conditioned him enough to live among people without becoming a monster.

"Do you understand emotions Harry?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Of course."

"Do you feel them?" Sirius pressed.

Here Harry frowned. He understood on a level that he didn't understand all the emotions that came with being human. He did understand a few though. Rage was his favourite. "Yes," he replied stiffly after a few seconds.

Sirius looked at him disbelievingly and wanted to pursue the matter, feeling like he was making some sort of breakthrough but Harry's face had gone sour. He was staring out the window and Sirius had been around Harry enough to know what there was no talking with him now. Harry was very good at ignoring the world around him.

Sirius stood up. "Well. Happy birthday," he said and left the room. He had to take Harry to Diagon Alley the next day for school supplies. Dumbledore was organising a guard in case Voldemort tried something.

Harry heard Sirius's footsteps disappear into the floor above and felt more at ease. He understood birthdays were held to celebrate birth. He just didn't get why.

The cloak was incredible. It felt like he was almost touching the source. It was clear this cloak of invisibility was created with runic magic accessing the source. The magic was perfectly stable and in harmony with the requirement that was to make the wearer invisible.

The magic of the cloak was what he was trying to achieve for his dream.

He had managed to successfully integrate the labyrinth runes with the deserts after careful examination of the wards around the cottage. What he was still lacking was power and with the amount of scrutiny on him, place to practice as well. He had only perfected the rune in his journal. He was excited about it. He wanted to test it but there were too many eyes on him. Dumbledore made surprise visits and Sirius subtly kept watching him.

It irked Harry but he was getting very good at the concept of patience. He kept silent. Kept writing in his journal and kept waiting. The time would come. He just had to wait for it. Harry opened his diary and began to continue his analysis of Arithmancy.

Arithmancy was the mathematics behind calculating and determining what kind of wand and wrist movements were necessary to create a spell. It was a science that considered magic as numbers and was built upon that principle.

Harry was attempting to apply the same principle to the source before he realised it was not possible. The source was infinite. That fact made him approach the problem from a different angle. If the source was considered infinite. Then how much magic was needed to power say a square metre of land into sand. What was the Arithmancy behind it? Where there any runes required to do it?

Harry ran his fingers over the cloak as he sank into his thoughts. He needed more information about Arithmancy. The notes he had were not enough. It was never enough.

He resolved to visit the book store when he went to Diagon Alley and absently continued running his fingers through the cloak. It felt marvelous. He felt like he was touching magic at its source.

The green pulsed faintly. The fact that it had been owned by his father made it feel slightly more special.


	28. Complications

_**An abstract of Aura.**_

 _Red – Power, Security, Jealousy._

 _Orange – Pleasure, Appreciation, Comfort._

 _Yellow – Status, Authority._

 _Green – Love, Compassion._

 _Blue – Knowledge, Influence._

 _Violet – Clairvoyance, Unification._

 _Unknown – What is enlightenment?_

 **Complications**

 _Once upon a time, before the wars with Goblins and clashes with non-magical folk, Magical Britain was known to the rest of the magical world as wand crafters. Magic was even considered as a gift of the gods and worshiped in secret temples. Then, one fateful day, a temple being constructed near a mountain deep inside Scotland broke into an underground city and found creatures never heard or seen before. They spoke a strange language and were ferocious at the breach into their city._

 _It was the beginning of a conflict between two dominating species and the slow extermination of the wand crafters._

Ollivander shut his ancestors book and sighed. He was the last of those of the last era. Humans may have won the war but the battle was never over.

The old wand crafter felt old.

His mind sank into the mystery that was Harry Potter. The boy was the result of a tragedy. The Void in his soul was too deep. So empty that his magic could only resonate with the tenere tree.

Not to mention his magic felt like that of a bygone era. He felt nostalgia upon experiencing the boy's magic. It reminded him of the old world. He was one of the few who was old enough to remember it. There was a reason why the only history Binns taught was Goblin history. He knew. He knew the danger Goblins posed to Wizards. It was a pity no one seemed to care anymore. All the world cared about now was the money the Goblins made for them. Wizards may control the throne. But the economy had a Goblins axe at its neck.

The entrance bell rang the arrival of a customer.

Ollivander smiled. The joy of gifting a Wizard a sacred tool allowing them to touch magic was his addiction. He disillusioned himself and stepped into the store. It was a man looking nervous. He sighed. Another wizard had broken his wand.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **First August Nineteen Ninety-Four - Diagon Alley: Flourish and Blotts**

Centaurs had captured Harry's imagination. Ever since watching them try and escape his labyrinth with remarkable intelligence, he wanted to learn more about them. Apart from the physiology and history he was fascinated by the role they played in the forbidden forest. They were the guardians who kept the real danger away from the forest towards Hogwarts. Beyond the breach, beyond his desert, was where the true danger students were warned about lay. The place where no wizard had ever returned from once ventured. It was the home of herd of Minotaur's and they were kept far away from the forest of the centaurs. No one had ventured into that side of the forest for centuries. The last person recorded to enter was Francis MacFusty.

Harry was in the second floor of Flourish and Blotts. As usual there weren't many people there as the books stored above were only for those who came hunting with a purpose. It had a wonderful atmosphere that Harry hadn't realised the first time he had come. Yellow and blue colours of magic whispered through the bookshelves and most of the people there had strong blue colours: the colour of knowledge.

He followed the alphabets marked on the shelfs until he came to M and found the book on the family of MacFusty. His excitement grew. The cover of the book was a menacing black dragon. With care and respect, he opened the book and read the first page synopsis. Apparently the MacFusty clan were the guardians of the Hebridean Black dragons who lived in the Hebrides islands of Scotland. Maybe he could go there once he was at Hogwarts.

Harry closed the book with an excited smile and put it in his floating basket over the book on Minotaurs. He had enough material to last him through until the beginning of school and was ready to leave. "Sirius," he called and then realised his godfather had told him to wait for him to return while he ran some errands. Harry frowned. He didn't want to wait and he didn't have gold.

Harry went down to the front desk.

"Excuse me," he said softly.

"Yes dear?"

No one recognised him. He was in disguise after Sirius had insisted. His eyes had been charmed brown and a nifty glamour spell had disguised his lightning bolt scar that served as a beacon of hope to the common folk.

"Where do I get gold?"

The lady behind the table frowned. "At Gringotts dear," she said warmly. "But where are your parents?"

"Keep these for me," Harry said. "I'll come back for them."

"Wait," she called, wanting to know more but Harry had levitated the basket onto the table and had already begun to walk to the exit while skilfully avoiding the mass of people who flooded Diagon Alley.

The atmosphere in the alley was bleak yet still thriving. Minister Malfoy might have radical ideas but his skill at governance was turning out to be a welcome change from the inefficiency of Cornelius Fudge. Common folk were already starting to adjust to the new laws and getting on with their business. Magical Britain was moving forward even with a muggleborn rebellion underway. The new force of werewolf Aurors and the recent treaty with the Vampire Covens had forced the muggleborns to fiercely defend their annexed villages. There was a fragile peace forming over the chaos concentrated around isolated villages. The Daily Prophet was reporting news as dictated by Lucius Malfoy to erase any progress made by the rebellion.

Harry walked down the cobblestone path towards the gleaming white building that dwarfed all others in sight. It was magnificent and Harry was in awe at the amount of magic that protected the white dome. The wards rivalled those at Hogwarts.

A newspaper flew past him, carried by the wind, and Harry caught the words World Cup printed across the page with an image of the British National Squad. He paid it no mind.

The sun shone brightly in the Alley and Harry noticed dozens of children crowding in the Quidditch store, looking at broom on display on a pedestal.

Harry walked past them and up the marble stairs of Gringotts.

Two armoured Goblins stood guard and a strange waterfall poured where the doors were supposed to be.

The magic was a mix of violet and red. Harry interpreted it as to reveal. A goblin growled through the metal head piece he was wearing and gestured with his spear for Harry to walk through.

The Void, calm for now, simmered. Harry hated being threatened. He glared down at the goblin and the green in his eyes shone for a fraction of a second making the goblins eyes widen. Harry saw their colours change to pale red. To fear.

He smiled darkly and returned to observing the waterfall. There didn't seem to be any bad intention about the enchantment. Harry frowned but took a step anyway, through the waterfall, and felt the magic of his disguise get stripped away.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Gringotts**

Sirius was tired of arguing.

"Look Longclaw." Sirius stressed the goblins name and gnashed his teeth. "The Lestrange vaults are mine. All claim to that vault by any Lestrange is gone seeing as they are in Azkaban on charges of treason!"

"Lord Black," the goblin retorted from behind his gold and silver desk with black beady eyes wide and smug over square rimmed glasses. His long green nose stuck out from under the bridge of his eyes, curved and sharp. "The Goblins of Gringotts are not interested in the matters of men. We have a treaty with the ministry that states the only laws that matters in cases of inheritance are the laws of Goblins on Goblin soil! You are in Gringotts and therefore on Goblin soil and Goblin law states that claims of inheritance have to settled in a trial by combat under the dome of the Magistrate of Gringotts! Now. If this is unacceptable you have to go to the ministry and apply for a bylaw from the Wizengamot which will then grant you the right to present your case before the council of Gringotts who will then determine if your claim is valid or invalid!"

Sirius wanted to murder the Longclaw. He really did.

"As per the laws of Goblins, if there lay no claim to a vault then the next in line is awarded control and seeing as Bellatrix fucking Lestrange was Bellatrix Black and I am Bellatrix Black's cousin still, control belongs to me as per you bloody laws! _And_ seeing as the Wizengamot has been abolished they can't hand out the memos you need!"

Longclaw smirked and crossed his fingers under his hairy green chin. He was glad the stupid wizard finally got it.

"And therein lies the trouble," he said softly. "Our treaty was made with the Wizengamot. Now the Wizengamot is no more so doesn't that make the treaty invalid?"

"These are dangerous times to be speaking such dangerous words Longclaw," Sirius warned.

"Yet they are true words," Longclaw hissed. "Go to your ministry. Go back and tell them the Goblins demand a new treaty. One that ensures the continued peace and smooth transactions that you wizards enjoy from Gringotts. Until then, you get nothing."

"You know very well who control the ministry now Longclaw. I represent a different point of view Longclaw. And my views will help your views if I could only get access to the vaults. Helping me will help you. Choose wisely Longclaw."

The goblin scowled. "Albus Dumbledore is a school teacher with no power. Lucius Malfoy on the other hand is taking over Britain. I respectfully disagree Sirius Black. You are the one who must choose wisely or risk annihilation."

The Goblins were playing it safe, Sirius realised. They had their own plans that could very well be harmful to Dumbledore's.

"Albus Dumble-"

The sound of a crash and scream made both of them jump and their eyes turned sharply towards the closed door.

A goblin shouting in Gobbledegook alarmed them and wizard and goblin went rushing towards the door and into the main hall.

Sirius's eyes widened in horror when he saw what the commotion was about. Harry was in the centre of the hall. His disguise was gone, revealing a tanned boy with black shaggy hair and furious dark green eyes that were ominously glowing with a dark aura. His wand was out and there were fallen people around him.

Harry was angry.

It had happened a minute after he walked up to the goblin teller ignoring the line. The man at the front had roughly pushed him and ordered him back to the line. Harry was about to lash out with the Void when his eyes widened and his eyes gravitated to his scar.

"Good Merlin," he gasped. "It's Harry Potter!"

Whispers ran through the line and a moment later Harry was being crowded.

 _A pleasure Mr Potter! A real pleasure!_

Hands were reaching out, touching him, grabbing his clothes.

 _Are you going to do something about the war?_

 _How is Hogwarts? Are you friends with my children?_

 _Are you a supporter of Minister Malfoy? Will you be coming to watch the world cup?_

The surprise and shock of being crowded wore off and Harry let loose a pulse of magic using his yellow and red with the intention of pushing everyone away from him.

Screams resonated in the hall when a dozen people around Harry felt like they were slapped by a giant hand and sent tumbling back into the others behind them.

Harry drew his wand. He wanted to kill them. He wanted to see their blood pool on the marble floor.

The Goblins sensed his intentions and four of them charged forward with spears aimed at Harry.

Pandemonium broke out.

"Stop this madness!"

That was Sirius's scream and it fell on deaf ears.

Harry slashed his wand in an arc and the goblins were sliced clean. Eight green bodies fell to the floor.

Black blood began to corrode the floor.

Harry was not going to stop. He raised his wand again, eyes alight with fury.

 _BANG. BANG. BANG._

It was the sound of a big gun going off and succeeded in distracting Harry.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted. "Stop this at once."

Harry controlled his rage. "They attacked me," he hissed.

Feeling the reigns of control Sirius quickly turned towards the other goblins who were readying their spears and calling for reinforcements. He noticed an owl leaving the hall through the open window high above.

"My name is Sirius Orion Black and as a Lord of an Ancient House, I demand the goblins to let me and my ward leave Gringotts peacefully!

Harry, put your wand away and start moving toward the exit."

Harry growled.

"Do it now! Listen to me for once!"

Harry grit his teeth and with great reluctance began to walk back towards the exit. He didn't put his wand away.

"There will be no peace now Lord Black," growled Longclaw. Hundreds of goblins were coming out from within the heart of Gringotts and all were armed to the teeth. No one made a move however. They all just stood there, glaring.

"If you hand over Harry Potter to us, then we might be able to talk. Take him away and Gringotts will not forgive the heinous murder of its brothers."

Sirius had caught up to Harry by now.

The rest of the people were still. They were petrified. One minute they were waiting for gold and now fear strangled them in a death grip.

"Wh-what about us?" a girl whimpered. "Can we leave… please?"

A bigger goblin walked into the hall and the smaller ones gave way for him. It was Ragnarok: the goblin magistrate.

"Everyone can leave or stay and finish your business. Goblins are not murderers. We do, however, collect our debts and one way or another we will collect."

His voice was deep and roughed with authority. It was a promise. There was going to be hell to pay for this.

Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gasped when it felt like he had dug his hands into blades. "Come on, Harry," he said through grit teeth.

Harry levelled a glare at Ragnarok and the goblin returned it in force.

"Leave boy," he taunted. "Leave with your tail between your legs or come face us like a true wizard."

"Harry don't fucking make this worse," Sirius warned.

Harry felt the panic Sirius was feeling inside. He sensed the fear of his godfather and decided to stand down. He wrapped the void around himself and Sirius like a protective shield and grinned at Ragnarok.

"I will return," Harry promised.

Their pair disappeared through the magical waterfall and the tension that had built up in Gringotts began to simmer.

"Did you feel it Longclaw?" Ragnarok asked.

"I did Magistrate."

Ragnarok rested his clawed hand on the axe hanging from his dragon skin belt. He grinned and revealed razor sharp black teeth.

"Looks like our axes are going to need sharpening," he growled with a feral smile.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifth August, Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Headmaster's office.**

"Well you've done it now Harry," Dumbledore said with a dry smile.

Harry scowled at headlines of the newspaper on the table.

 ** _Harry Potter wanted for Murder_**

The article had two versions about the events that went down in Gringotts. One that Harry went crazy and killed four Goblins. The other said Harry was attacked first and he only defended himself. The Rita Skeeter exclusive was yet to come.

The other was the version Dumbledore had managed to push through the media of information giving rise to doubts against the goblins claims.

The result was Harry in Dumbledore's custody at Hogwarts where the Ministry no longer had jurisdiction. Sirius had been wise to bring Harry straight to Hogwarts after Gringotts.

There was to be a trial at the Ministry sooner or later or else Dumbledore would be forced out of Hogwarts allowing Lucius Malfoy the total control he desired and Harry would be handed over to the Goblins or Voldemort on a silver platter.

For now, Dumbledore had bought time. Time to decide what to do next. His options were very limited. The muggleborn rebellion was all that stood between Voldemort and Britain now. The Rebellion and Hogwarts.

Harry had just drastically reduced the timeline to the full tilt war that Dumbledore hoped never happened. He couldn't even hand Harry over to the ministry because that would mean losing to Voldemort's shadow.

He wished he didn't have to shelter the insanity that was Harry anymore. He had lost hope in the prophecy. Yet, he had to prevent the ministry from getting their claws into Harry until he had a plan. He had to think of a plan to save Britain from the darkness. Until he came up with a plan that didn't revolve around the Boy who Lived, Harry could not be surrendered.

Dumbledore sighed and touched his forehead with his wand and drew out his thoughts and plans about the situation.

Harry watched blankly as Dumbledore deposited the silver magic that glowed violet in his eyes into a bowl full of it.

"What do you want?" Harry asked softly. His voice was calm and strangely accepting.

It worried Dumbledore. There was nothing calm about the situation.

The headmaster smiled. It was time to start asking harder questions.

"I found a lovely desert deep inside the Forbidden Forest."

Harry's eyes went wide. He had been so careful!

"I followed the trail of Nymphadora Tonks," Dumbledore added.

Excitement and caution brewed inside Harry. He strained to contain the smile that wanted to stretch his lips from ear to ear.

"So what?" Harry whispered. His eyes gleamed with challenge and he all but confirmed Dumbledore's suspicions.

"Just a word of advice," Dumbledore said leaning forward. His blue eyes went cold and Harry felt like his soul was being examined.

Harry summoned the Void and drew it around him.

"The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for students for a reason and I hope you don't go wandering in there. The Centaurs believe a monster resides there now and they have lost two of their own."

Harry blinked and stared, not offering a word of condolences or faked shock.

"Also with the incident at Gringotts, you're now a target of the Ministry of Magic. It would be in your best interests to contain yourself and lay low."

"Or else what?" Harry asked. His eyes narrowed.

"Or else Voldemort, the man who destroyed the lives of your parents, the man who left your father's mind in pieces and cost your mother her soul, will win this war we're fighting."

This time Harry was surprised. "Voldemort." He whispered the name. A strange sort of feeling rose inside Harry. It was almost like the time before he sliced his Aunt's bony neck.

Dumbledore suddenly saw an opportunity. The metaphorical light bulb turned on in his mind. "And if you listen to me you will get a chance to face and kill him."

Harry's interest was piqued. "Is he strong?" Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore smiled grimly. "Extremely."

The headmaster saw that he had given Harry something to think about and felt the stress on his shoulders lessen.

Harry, on the other hand, saw it all. Even if no one realised it. The strings of red and yellow, twisting into manipulation from the blue. Magic revealed the truth of everything. He could see the subtle way Dumbledore was trying to point his mind in a direction that appealed to him and thereby placing some sort of control over him.

Harry chuckled. It mildly alarmed Dumbledore. There was too much humour in that chuckle for his liking.

"You're beginning to understand me Professor," Harry said mildly. "I could care less about the trials and what laws and rules govern this world. Power is the only law that governs my world." The humour faded from his face and Dumbledore saw the power behind Harry's eyes. An endless pool of something unknown yet familiar.

Harry stood up. "Magic is Power, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore sighed. Well, at least this was some sort of progress, he rationalised in his mind.

"Go back to your dormitory. The library is open and you can use the school grounds if you wish to stretch your legs. Food will be served in the Great Hall as per school timings."

Understanding the dismissal, Harry turned towards the exit without a backward glance.

He walked down the spiral staircase and let loose a blast of uncontrolled magic on the Gargoyles outside. There were too many strings being warped around him. He could feel them tighten around his torso, trapping his arms, attempting to control his Will.

The Gargoyles smashed into pieces and Harry took a deep breath to calm the Void.

"Ouch," muttered one of the Gargoyles as they slowly reformed. Harry was not the first student to lash out at them.

"I'll show them all," Harry whispered. "They have no idea. They will learn."

Harry's resolve strengthened with purpose. A purpose that had always been floating in his mind and now had come to fore with sharper clarity.

He was going to show them all. They would regret forcing him into a corner.


	29. Dancing Strings

**Dancing Strings**

 **Fourth September, Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Defence against Dark Arts**

"Ravens and Snakes," Sirius said, with a roll of his eyes. "Well, we can easily say this ought to be the smartest class in of the year eh?"

"Bushy Bucktooth ain't here professor," joked Malfoy.

Sirius smiled thinly. "No she ain't," he said softly. "Tell me Mr Malfoy. Does detention every Saturday with Professor Hagrid sound pleasant to you?"

Draco Malfoy scowled. "No," he sneered. He knew exactly who Sirius Black was. Rebel scum.

"Open your mouth out of turn again and I'll see to it the detention sticks until Christmas."

Draco glared and didn't reply.

Sirius grinned. He clapped his hands together and turned to the rest of the class.

"Alright then. First things first. I Sirius Black, do solemnly swear I will not give homework. Ever."

With a few words, Sirius Black became a Hogwarts legend. His words eventually reached the curious ears of Fred and George Weasley and put into motion an exciting meeting of the minds of pranksters.

Dumbledore had been smart to make Sirius the new defence against the dark arts professor. He had brought in an eye who had learnt how to keep a watch on Harry and he was also helping a broken soul heal by the magic that was Hogwarts.

"Settle down," he said over the excited din. "In light of recent events, we are going to dive into a topic that is usually reserved for the end of the year but we're going to start with it. We're going to learn about curses."

The class was enraptured. Even Draco and Daphne had their full attention on Sirius. All of them except for one Raven.

Harry was sitting alone at the back of the class, his legs folded and busy scribbling in a leather bound book.

Sirius's eyes kept gravitating to Harry and he didn't bother him. A Harry that was with books was a safe Harry.

"How many of you have heard of the Merovian curses?"

Blank stares greeted Sirius and he chuckled. "I would think not," he said. "They are mentioned in a book written by Morgana le Fay. They were four terrible curses she called the Merovian Curses."

Sirius paused and let his eyes sweep across the room. The memory of their first fight with the Knights of Walpurgis flashed in his mind.

"I'm not here to teach you about them. I'm here to teach you how to defend against them. How to defend yourselves against the Dark Arts."

Harry glanced at his godfather with a small smile. The yellow in core of his godfather were glowing bright. He was going to do well as a Professor.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Fifteen September, Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Great Hall**

It was dinner time and the school was gathered in full force. There was to be an announcement.

The last month had been unpleasant for Harry. He couldn't venture into the forest; he was constantly under watch by men in red cloaks who Dumbledore had said were sent by the Ministry to keep an eye on him until the trial. All the students talked about him and how he was a murderer now. It annoyed Harry, he had been a murderer long before the Goblins.

A preliminary hearing was to be held on thirty first October for which the Ministry would be sending an official to Hogwarts. Evidence was to be gathered in the meantime and after the preliminary hearing the main trail at the ministry was to be held. That was the thing Dumbledore was planning to avoid so that Harry would not fall into Voldemort's hands.

In all this muck of politics and laws, Harry restrained himself. He kept his mind focused on greater things. His dream of reducing everything into nothing. He poured himself into his theories and experimented in the dead of the night when no eyes were upon him. He learnt to put up wards around his bed and under their protection he fervently drew runes, improving them, tying in new ideas. He was constantly thinking of the source and the desert. It was all that prevented him from lashing out at the control being netted over him. He ignored everyone and everything. He even stopped talking with Daphne. He attended his classes with a permanently blank expression and immediately retreated to his dorm.

He obeyed the rules and regulations that were chained to him and imagined the day they would fall. The day they would all fall.

He came out of the darkness of his thoughts when Dumbledore stood up and tinkled his wine glass with a metal fork.

The students went silent.

"Children, it is my great pleasure to welcome Mister Crouch to Hogwarts. Mister Crouch comes with news regarding an international duelling tournament that will be hosted in Hogwarts."

Gasps and whispers escaped lungs. _A duelling tournament!_

"Mister Crouch will explain the rest."

A short and severe looking man stood up from the shadows wearing a crisp suit and had a neat moustache.

"Thank you Albus," he said with a cough. "Come November, we will be inviting magical schools to Hogwarts in an effort to promote international relations. This is an initiative taken up by Minister Malfoy and is also a step towards showing the rest of the world that Britain is strong and Britain is united."

Over, at the Ravenclaw table, Harry sighed. Another man spinning tales of manipulation to take control. Everyone wanted control. Daphne wanted control, Draco wanted control, all most everyone Harry had ever met wanted control over the people around them. He could see it in the colours of their magic. He dreamt of stripping that worthless control from them and showing them a world without control. Without rules. Without the desire to rule and with the desperation to survive.

At the Slytherin table, Daphne listened to every word with grim understanding. Dumbledore could not refuse a request to host an international school tournament. Just like the Ministry could not refuse to hold the Quidditch World Cup in spite of the recent events.

The face of stability to the international world had to be maintained. Revealing themselves to be weak and amidst and growing Civil War would only invite instability and interference from foreign powers. Daphne understood the manner in which Malfoy had trapped Dumbledore. Now the Ministry would gain more control over Hogwarts. This meant the Rebellion had to move quick. They could not afford to waste time gathering support. If Hogwarts fell to the Ministry, then the Rebellion would not stand a chance.

They had to attack. They could not be passive aggressive anymore. Daphne needed to talk with Ted.

Thunderous clapping broke out as soon as Crouch finished his speech. Everyone was excited. Dumbledore realised this method of approach would also win over many students who were undecided about which side they wanted to join. He had only just barely managed to convince the ICW to limit the judging to school professors and keep the ministries out of it.

Voldemort had already won and they never saw it coming. All because of an explosion in Malfoy manor that resulted in the death of purebloods and a change in government policies. His fight is now purely political and he was fighting with every breath he had. It was a masterful move by Lord Voldemort. Duelling was a dying art and to the world it seemed like the new Ministry was bathing in the light of a dying world with the aim to revive it. Just like the ministry couldn't say no to hosting the world cup. Hogwarts couldn't say no to the duelling championship.

"Thank you Mister Crouch," Dumbledore said clapping politely. "That will be all for tonight children. Off to bed if you've eaten your full."

Laughter broke out and wood began to scratch the floor as students began to leave the hall.

"Oh one last thing!" Crouch exclaimed stopping all the students. "The tournament is only for those over the age of sixteen. Thank you."

Groans and shouts were directed at the ministry official. Apparently many thought that was unfair.

"Enough!" shouted Snape suddenly. No one had noticed the sour professor seated at the edge of the staff table. "Everyone off to bed! No complaints or I'll have you in detention with me," he threatened.

Silence befell the hall and Dumbledore chuckled. Snape definitely had a special way with children.

* * *

 **Seventeenth October, Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts Grounds.**

The days rolled by and so did the frustration. He was getting better at controlling it and every day without access to the forest made an itch grow inside Harry that became so bad that he was willing to kill the Auror just to go to his desert. But he knew the situation that he was in. It was like that time in court after killing his Aunt and Uncle.

He had to be patient. The time would come soon. He had taken to meditating on the Void. Letting his mind drift with magic. Intermingling and trying to understand it. Searching for answers and power.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were having their care of magical creatures with Hagrid who was introducing them to a Griffin. A Lion the size of a bear with wings. It was still smaller than Hagrid though. It wasn't chained and was lazily sitting under the sun, glancing occasionally at the crowd of students with lazy brown eyes.

"Friendly little creatures they are," Hagrid said with a grin under his beard and hands on his hips. "They have a taste for deer and when their hungry they go from friendly to deadly. They will hunt anything in sight except for their own. It's why they are a class four scale magical creature."

"Can we touch it?" asked Susan Bones. She was another student who had an arrest warrant in her name issued by the Ministry. She knew she was lucky however, because now the Ministry had a problem bigger than her Aunt and rebelling muggleborns and had chosen to ignore her for now. Rebelling Goblins was far more dangerous and serving up Harry for dinner would satisfy both sides.

The class continued until the bell rang from within the castle signalling the end of the class.

"No homework," Hagrid shouted and the students cheered as they walked back to the castle.

Harry chose to remain behind. He wanted to talk to Hagrid.

"Something on your mind 'arry?"

"What do you know about Minotaurs?" Harry asked.

"Well bless my beard!" Hagrid said in surprise and excitement. "Where did you go and 'ear about Minotaurs?"

"A book about Centaurs," Harry said, his voice vague. "It said the Minotaurs lived in the forest and the Centaurs protected Hogwarts from them."

Hagrid chuckled. "Aye. Although the Centaurs don't protect Hogwarts. They protect themselves and Hogwarts just happens to be behind them."

Hagrid was leading the Griffin back into the forest and Harry fell into stride beside the half giant. He had to put some effort into keeping up to the long strides of Hagrid. Hagrid noticed and slowed his pace with a small smile.

"You like magical creatures?" Hagrid asked.

Harry smiled. Not just because powerful monsters fascinated him but because he was back in the forest. He felt the magic. It was harsh, unforgiving and welcoming. He closed his eyes and felt the aura of his desert deep inside, up North. It was a pity Dumbledore had discovered it and was watching it.

"The strong ones," Harry replied. He observed the half giant's magic. His colours were brighter than any other wizard and his red spread all around him like a shield of magic. Red, yellow and green were dominate traits in magical creatures Harry had noticed. Power, dominance and Passivity. Combinations of those traits were present in some form or the other in all Magical creatures.

That evening Harry learnt that there was a lot Hagrid and he had in common. He found himself captured by the half giant's passion about dangerous and powerful creatures. It ignited an interest in him to want to face these creatures. He wondered what would be stronger. Their connection to the source or his?

* * *

 **Twenty fifth October Nineteen Ninety-Four – Ministry of Magic: Minister's Office.**

"Everything has been gathered?"

"Yes My Lord. Only two items remain. The blood of the enemy, forcibly taken and the flesh of the servant, willingly given."

The spirit of Voldemort had gained strength. He wasn't restored to his full power yet it was enough to begin to move through their new world with all bending the knee.

He was now in the body of a nameless muggleborn caught scurrying around Knockturn Alley. His skin was unblemished unlike before and brown eyes had a red film resting underneath. The muggleborn looked to be around the age of twenty-five and was thin with dirty blonde hair.

Lord Voldemort was lounging in the chair of the Minister with his feet on the table and eating an apple. He was enjoying being back in a stable corporeal form.

Lucius and Pius Thicknesse were seated opposite him, their bodies rigid and their hands folded in their laps.

There was a palpable taste of terror around them in-spite of the relaxed air around Voldemort.

"How did the meeting with goblins go?" he asked.

"Diggory and Crouch have been negotiating extensively and a new deal is nearing completion however..."

"However what," Voldemort hissed, interrupting Lucius. He removed his feet from the table and leaned forward in his chair.

Lucius felt death put his fingers around his neck. Urging him to make a wrong statement.

"They are demanding Harry Potter be handed over to them. One way or another, now or later, they want him alive to do with his as they please."

Voldemort didn't say anything. The red in his brown eyes darkened.

"I will see them all dead," he whispered in anger.

"We don't have the strength to repel a full scale Goblin Rebellion while we're also putting down a Muggleborn Rebellion My Lord," Thicknesse said with a quiver in his voice.

"Lucius. Offer them a last proposal. The Goblins of Gringotts must lend aid to the Ministry in order to put down the rebellion and in return we will give them Harry Potter alive but only I will be allowed to kill him."

"Yes My Lord."

"Gather the full force of Aurors and attack those rebels. The Goblins, will be tasked to take down their wards. Now go and see it done."

Lucius and Pius bowed their head in acceptance and stood up.

Pius turned to leave but Lucius cleared his throat.

"One last thing My Lord," he said. "What of Harry Potter's trial? And Dumbledore for that matter. Hogwarts is still out of our reach."

Voldemort smiled. "Send Dolores Umbridge in."

Lucius left confused but quickly hid his questions behind a mask of obedience. He was right behind Pius and felt a weight lift of his shoulders.

Both men looked at each other and sighed.

"He is furious isn't he?" Pius said with a nervous laugh.

"He's on the edge," Lucius replied. "The situation is very volatile. The Muggleborn strength has grown alarmingly strong. Many werewolves have been choosing to join them instead of the Ministry. If they aren't stopped soon, together with Hogwarts, they will become a unified force capable of overthrowing the Ministry."

They walked to Umbridge's desk at the end of the hall and Lucius glared at her with a sneer. In the last month he had gone from Minister of Magic to Messenger of the Minister of Magic. Voldemort had taken over without barely lifting a finger. The Dark Lord just placed himself at the right place at the right time.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you," he said to the short plump woman who had warts over her face.

She sneered back and stood up quickly. She wanted to become a Knight of Walpurgis. She desperately wanted to see Lucius beneath her instead of being a toad under his boot.

Umbridge entered the office and immediately bowed deeply. "You asked for me My Lord?" she simpered.

"I have a task for you," Voldemort said. "Complete it without failure and you will be rewarded with Knighthood."

Umbridge's eyes widened. Her heart beat faster. Was this her chance?

"Anything My Lord," she said eagerly.

"You are to be the Ministry's representative in Harry Potter's preliminary trial at Hogwarts. Bring me his blood."

Whatever Umbridge had imagined. It had never been this. Her heart came to a screeching halt and confusion clouded her mind.

"His blood milord?"

"Bring me Harry Potter's blood. A pint or an ounce I don't care. Bring me the blood and see yourself bestowed the mark of Walpurgis. Will you succeed at this task Dolores Umbridge?"

Umbridge rose herself proudly. "I will not fail My Lord."

* * *

 **An abstract of Aura.**

Red – Power, Security, Jealousy.

Orange – Pleasure, Appreciation, Comfort.

Yellow – Status, Authority.

Green – Love, Compassion.

Blue – Knowledge, Influence.

Violet – Clairvoyance, Unification.

Unknown – What is enlightenment?


	30. Deciding Fates

**Deciding Fates**

 **Twenty Ninth October Nineteen Ninety-Four – Godric's Village: Town Library.**

"Are you certain Amelia?"

"Yes," Amelia Bones replied. "Kingsley's words were very specific. Your wishful little country won't be able to stand against the combined force of those bastard Aurors and Goblins."

"Fuck," Ted cursed.

"I'd advice moving camp and dispersing into groups for now. We have to lay low until the right time to strike comes."

Amelia had been urging Ted to forget the dream of creating an independent nation and focus on waiting for the right time to strike the Ministry.

Ted was against it and so were the hundreds of muggleborns who were a part of the Rebellion. They had enough strength now to fight the Aurors. They refused to recognise the laws of the Ministry.

Now a tough choice lay before them. Stay and fight meant there would be deaths for certain, run and hide meant accepting defeat.

"We have to hide," Ted said with a frustrated growl. Why the fuck had Harry Potter killed those goblins?! All their plans had been thrown into the fire and left to burn. He hated doing this but he had to do it. The fighting _had_ to happen on their terms.

"I've sent word to Vance that we're going to break camp. We should be able to find at least seven safe houses. You can pass the information to the rest while you and I need to go to Hogwarts."

Ted scoffed.

"So you'd already planned all this?"

"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "I like to be ready. It's a miracle your band of brothers have managed to make it this far."

Ted scowled.

"We believe in our cause. You're only here because you got nowhere else to go. Don't confuse your purpose here Amelia. You and your Aurors need us more than we need you."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "If I wasn't here, by tomorrow you'd be a pile of burnt flesh. Don't be an idiot Ted. I'm here to help because the Ministry has been taken over by pureblood bigots. Now are you going to come or whine some more?"

Ted sighed and controlled his anger. "Has anyone told you you're too damn bull headed?"

"I'm a Taurus," Amelia retorted. "Now let's go. We can't waste time."

* * *

 **Thirty First October Nineteen Ninety-Four: Dusk**

 **Headmaster's Office**

The day was finally here. The office had been rearranged with one chair on which Harry was sitting near the fire place and five chairs before him in which sat, Dolores Umbridge: Ministry Representative, Andromeda Tonks: Harry's lawyer appointed by Dumbledore, Pius Thicknesse: Director of the Auror office, Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts and Percy Weasley: the new scribe to the office of the Minister.

Dumbledore was not happy about the representatives. He knew who they were and who they fought for. But he had little choice in the matter. This had to be done if his plan was going to work. His mind was alert and wand ready at all times.

Harry was startled at the resemblance Andromeda Tonks had with her daughter. He found her presence amusing. He had killed her daughter and now she was defending him. Harry wanted to tell her the truth and see what she would do. Her green was filled with hurt and Harry was curious to see if her red would influence the desire for revenge through her green.

He smirked at his Jury. He looked half bored, half amused. To the others it felt like Harry was saying he was guilty and he didn't care what they thought. He only cared about the time that was being wasted because of this trial business.

He saw the pale red of Dolores Umbridge, emoting a weak and venomous nature. Her yellow was acid coloured and there seemed to be a lot of interaction between her yellow, red and blue. She was planning something unpleasant. That's what the colours told him.

Dolores Umbridge hated him at first sight. Her hand shivered in the excitement of imagining her prospects in the Ministry ladder once she succeeded.

Pius Thicknesse cleared his throat and glanced at Percy.

"Right," Percy said brightly. Harry noticed he was the only one who's orange was glowing bright. Percy was enjoying himself.

Harry smiled at the thin and tall redhead. He was beginning to enjoy himself too. His adrenaline was beginning to flow faster.

"Harry James Potter," Percy began formally. "You stand accused of goblin slaughter by the Goblins of Gringotts. How do you plead?"

Dumbledore had given Harry a full breakdown of what he had to say. He had repeated told Harry to say not guilty and keep quiet. Andromeda Tonks would do all the talking and if things went sour Dumbledore made Harry promise he would not react.

Harry turned his eyes on Dumbledore's calm blue. Dumbledore was hiding behind occlumency. Harry could see the headmaster was not at rest. He was holding breath for Harry to say the right words.

Harry smiled politely. "Not guilty," he said.

The breath Dumbledore was holding was released subtly.

"You deny killing four goblins with an unauthorised spell?" Pius Thicknesse asked. Harry felt his voice was like a boot sliding against slime.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. He oddly had red faintly around the violet of around his forehead. It was strange. Harry had never seen something like that before.

"Mrs Tonks will speak for me," Harry said, his voice barely a whisper and yet clearly audible. He nodding at the dark haired woman.

Dumbledore felt relief flood his blood. It was done.

Andromeda presented a bunch of parchment to Umbridge. "Written and signed statements and sequence of events," she said firmly. Her dark eyes looked down on Umbridge with superiority. Andromeda Tonks was the pureblood all pureblood families wished their girls would be. When she had rejected all marriage proposals from upstanding families and married a muggleborn for love there had been outrage.

It was all everyone could talk about a during that time in the past and when Greengrass died her husband became the source of hatred that was born from her decision to marry him. That was, at least, the way the other purebloods saw it.

Andromeda and Ted saw the source of the hatred quite clearly. It was bigotry plain and simple. They fought in silence for years and when Lucius Malfoy; the source of pain for hundreds of muggleborns became minister, they refused to fight silently anymore. The death of their daughter, however, had shaken them terribly. They were heart broken and they blamed the Ministry.

Only Dumbledore suspected the truth. Harry Potter was the real monster.

"Excuse me Tonks," Umbridge simpered. "This is supposed to be a preliminary trial. We have to ask questions and decide if there is to be an immediate sentencing or if a trail before the ministry is necessary."

"If you have any questions," Tonks replied smoothly, "You can ask after reading our statement of events."

Umbridge scowled and the veins in her wide and short neck stood out purple.

"Mrs Tonks," she began cruelly.

"Take the statement Umbridge," Thicknesse interrupted. "I suppose this means you're leaving the decision in our hands Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore knew what he talking about. Thicknesse was getting down to the real question of it. Was Dumbledore going to try and stop the trial or not.

Dumbledore turned to Tonks. She was Harry's appointed representative after all. And she knew what Dumbledore wanted.

"The Ministry can review our statement and get back to us with the final decision," she said.

Pius Thicknesse turned to Umbridge. Getting the blood was her test. He had strict instructions not to interfere. This was the Dark Lord's game and his rules applied.

Umbridge's lips trembled. Her whole plan revolved around poisonous question for Harry Potter. Her mind raced, half in panic and half in anger. Suddenly her glare vanished and she smiled, putting on a mask of agreement.

"Very well," she simpered. Umbridge opened the clip of her pink bag and summoned an official parchment. Another flick of her small wand and an inkpot and quill rose out. The quill flew out of the pot and began to scribble on the parchment. Seconds ticked by and when the sound of feather tip scratching against parchment stopped, the parchment floated to Tonks.

Andromeda plucked the parchment out of the air and after she was done reading she scoffed. "The signed statement is in the bunch Dolores," she said.

It was basically a letter that stated the submitted writings were true.

"Then Mr Potter wouldn't mind signing it with a blood quill would he?" she asked triumphantly. Umbridge glanced at Dumbledore who looked annoyed and Harry who was scowling. What was a blood quill? Harry wondered. Umbridge's colours had changed. Her yellow was sinking into the red of desperation.

"This is not a blood feud or Gringotts. There is no need for a blood quill Dolores," Dumbledore said.

"Blood is binding Headmaster Dumbledore. This is an official statement and all official statements have to be signed in blood as per the new Ministry bylaw regarding the functioning of a court house."

"Convenient," Andromeda spat. Blood quill were barbaric tools. It had been long since the practice of signing in blood was stopped. The gesture was purely symbolic and unnecessary.

Harry on the other hand didn't think so. Finally, her colours made sense. This was her plot.

Umbridge put her stubby fingers that were crowned with large rings holding precious stones into her purse and pulled out a black quill.

The moment Harry saw the quill he saw it's purpose. It would forcibly extract blood from the point where skin first made contact. Blood was powerful. His studies with runes had taught him that. "Why do you want my blood?" he asked the plump government official who was wearing a soft pink cardigan that gave Harry an irrational urge to burn.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. So this was the plan. Voldemort wanted Harry's blood! Blood of an enemy was a powerful ingredient for dark resurrection rituals.

The atmosphere thickened with tension. Fear rolled out of Umbridge. She had thought she would not get caught. She had overestimated her intelligence. She was being pushed into a corner.

"It is standard procedure now," Umbridge said her voice trembling.

Umbridge stood up and Dumbledore's fingers slipped into the pocket of his robes and grasped his wand. His eyes were on Pius. The man was a formidable duellist.

Umbridge snatched the parchment from Andromeda, walked to Harry and stuck out the quill. "It's just a signature Mr Potter. You are free to go after this."

Percy Weasley held his breath and never stopped scribbling. He didn't understand what was happening and he focused on doing his job which was recording all that was being said and done.

Harry stretched his arm and gently took the quill from Umbridge. He looked at it and saw the dark energy that was sealed in the quill. Harry looked into her pale brown eyes that didn't hid the malevolence that corroded her heart and then with his other hand, he snapped the quill in two.

"No," he said simply and dropped the broken pieces on the floor.

Umbridge saw red. She snarled and drew her wand to attack and was blasted off her feet by Dumbledore.

She was blasted into the oak entrance door of the office and she fell in a heap on the floor while coughing blood.

Pius stood up and Dumbledore turned his wand on the head of the Auror office but the man didn't draw his wand. He looked mildly amused.

"Care to explain this Pius?" Dumbledore asked with warning in his voice.

"My apologies headmaster. Dolores actions are shocking. I have no idea why she acted so. Not to mention the bylaw about blood quills is a lie."

Dolores was in pain after that unpleasant banishing spell but she looked up at Pius with betrayal in her eyes.

Pius smiled at her nastily and collected the bunch of parchment she had left on her chair. "We will review your explanation and owl Mr Potter when our decision is made.

Dolores. Stand down. Your behaviour is unbecoming of a Ministry official."

"But -" Dolores shrieked.

She was stunned by Dumbledore.

"What game is this Pius?" the headmaster asked with a frown. He glanced at Harry who was eyeing Dolores curiously. Dumbledore was glad Harry had listened and stood down no matter what. He wondered what had made Harry listen to him. The boy's mind was unreadable.

"No game headmaster. We came to hear Mr Potter's side of the story and now, as per his representative – Mrs Tonks, we have got it."

Andromeda was confused. She wasn't able to understand what had just happened. Why had Dolores attacked Harry?

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and magic thickened around him. He was done playing games. "What is Voldemort planning?" he asked coldly.

Percy and Andromeda gasped. _You Know Who?!_

Pius's eyes flickered red and Dumbledore's eyes widened. Pius was being controlled? But he didn't sense the Imperius nor a Confundus curse or possession. What magic was this?

"The Dark Lord died almost fifteen years ago Headmaster," Pius said softly. He stood up. "I thank you for your cooperation Mr Potter."

Harry sat that quietly after Umbridge had turned violent with a tiny smile on his lips and an empty look in his eyes. Those eyes scared Pius Thicknesse. It reminded him of the time the Dark Lord sat alone on his throne. Planning. Scheming. What followed was always death.

Pius quickly averted his eyes. He had never been brave enough to face up to such eyes.

"Would you like to keep Dolores or am I free to take her with me?"

"Take her," Dumbledore said. He lowered his wand but never removed his eyes from Pius.

"Come on, let's go Weasley," Pius muttered. He flicked his wand at Umbridge, levitating her, and tossed some floo power into the fire place. "Ministry of Magic Auror Division," he shouted.

The flames turned green and one by one, the three from the ministry vanished into the fire.

A breath later Andromeda turned to Dumbledore with fear in her eyes. Dumbledore met her gaze with silence and turned his eyes on Harry.

"Thank you Harry. You can leave."

Harry slid off his chair and silently left the office.

Dumbledore then flicked his wand and his office rearranged itself into its original form. "Andromeda. Would it possible for you to take me to Ted and the rest of the rebellion leaders?"

"Tell me what's going on Albus."

"Lord Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore said simply.

Terror began to spin a web in Andromeda's gut. She had not forgotten the horror of the last war.

* * *

 **Malfoy Manor Dungeons - Near Midnight**

"My Lord. They have arrived."

All ingredients have been bought and Voldemort himself had readied the potion. The last ingredients to join the potion were flesh of the servant, bone of the father and blood of the enemy forcibly taken.

Voldemort glanced at Lucius. "Send them in," he said.

Pius Thicknesse walked in first. He was followed by three hooded figures.

Voldemort's eyes burned red with passion. His true knights had returned.

The three stood still for a moment, their bodies rigid with shock. The Dark Lord looked different but none of them failed to recognize his presence. They knelt on one knee simultaneously and bowed their heads in reverence.

"My Lord," choked a female voice in disbelief and joy. It was hoarse with disuse and rich with femininity.

"Rise and remove your hoods," Voldemort said softly.

The Malfoy Manor dungeons were carved out of solid rock that served as foundation for the ancient house. The stretched for about a mile in a spiral beneath the surface and on both sides of a main path were prison cells large enough to fit barely four people. The cells numbered in thousands. The downward spiral of dungeons went at least ten stories below however only the top two levels had been used for other purposes in the last hundred years. The entrance to the dungeon was from a secret entrance under a secret chamber below the living room.

Sticks of fire were held in metal brackets, fixed at long intervals, to bask enough light for them to see each other and the bars of steel clearly.

One by one, the four removed their hoods.

They were Voldemort's most reliable Knights. Their station was above that of Lucius as well.

The faces were revealed. A woman with untamed and thinned curly black hair. Her face was hollowed and lined with age and suffering but her wide, strange purple eyes and large smile revealed crooked yellow teeth painted a different story. This was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Beside her was a tall man, bald with the tattoo of a dragon stretching up from his neck over the side of his wrinkled face and ending with fire billowing atop his head. He too, looked ecstatic. His name was Rudolphus Lestrange. He preferred a cleaver over a wand.

Behind them stood a boy who looked like he had been starved and neglected for years. His name was Regulus Black. He had dark black hair and pale blue eyes that reflected a calm indifference.

"Welcome back my dear loyal friends," Voldemort said with a dark smile. "Welcome back."

"I never doubted," whispered Regulus. "I always knew you would return."

"Not yet I haven't," Voldemort replied. "Tonight, however, in the presence of my Loyal, I will return to my true self and reignite our dream of a pure and untainted Britain."

The dream bloomed in the hearts of those around him. All of them wished it. Dreamt it. Wanted to do it by themselves. It was only Lord Voldemort who had united them under his power. And after almost fifteen years of darkness, they could see the light again.

"Bring the rest in Lucius," Voldemort commanded.

Lucius bowed and went deeper into the dungeons and for a moment disappeared in the darkness. Metal clanged in the darkness and when Lucius returned he was followed by two men. The shorter of the two came into light and everyone in the rock cut dungeon recognized Peter Pettigrew. He looked worse than all of them combined.

It was not Peter who surprised them all. It was the man behind who shocked the former prisoners of Azkaban.

His messy black hair was easily recognizable. His brown eyes were glazed with the film of a strong imperius curse.

It was James Potter.

Voldemort had never intended to go after Harry Potter's blood. It was a smoke screen meant to lower the guard around the pure-blood enemy whose half-blood son had defeated him.

Lucius released the curse and brown eyes blinked rapidly in confusion.

"W-where am I?" he asked childishly.

"Welcome… Lord Potter," Voldemort said with an evil smile.


	31. Goblet of Fire

**Goblet of Fire**

 **Thirteenth November Nineteen Ninety-Four – Hogwarts: Ancient Runes Class**

Runes was one of the few classes that Harry vaguely enjoyed after he had resigned to the fact he had to attend all classes as a part of his role of laying low and killing nothing. It was interesting to see the Professor teach the students what runes had been translated and understood so far and how they could be used.

Today there were going further into the depth of the origins of runes.

"As you all know," Professor Babbling said, "Runes were first discovered in the ruins of Atlantis. They are thought to be the first form of wielding magic until the invention of wands."

Harry scoffed silently in his seat. Runes were a direct translation of magic. To understand what the runes said, you had to understand how the magic felt. It was the root thought that Harry used in his crafting of runes.

What the professor was teaching however, was almost laughable. If Harry had to put in it words, he would say they were being taught the alphabets and not even all of them nor in the correct order. In short they had no idea what runes really were.

It made him feel annoyed and amused. A balance that helped the Void remain calm.

Hermione and Daphne were seated to his right. They listen to Babbling with rapt attention.

By the end of the lecture Babbling assigned them to study chapter four of the Text of Runology which spoke about how runes were used in the present day with wands to help them.

Harry yawned earning a scowl from Hermione. Harry ignored her. He let his mind wander back to the problem that had plagued him since the beginning of his dream. A problem of power. Even now, after the leaps and gains he had earned, it was not enough.

He had discovered how to stabilise the structure by focusing on his violet to influence the catacomb section of the rune structure. He wanted to cast it in the forest to test it but he could not. There were strings of control around him.

He continued to practise patience but he could hear the clock ticking. What way did he have to twist his mind to fully harness the full power of magic to power his curse to the grand scale that he dreamed of? So far he would barely be able to change the landscape for five kilometres in all directions around him. He had used Arithmancy to determine that. It was a lot but it was nowhere near enough.

His control was waning and giving way to a sliver of desperation.

The toll of the bell signalled the end of the lesson and Harry slid out of the bench and moved to leave, eager to return to his dorm and mediate on the source. He had to understand more. Time was running out.

A hand rested on his shoulder. It was Daphne. He recognized her soft touch. It made something strange turn in his gut. It was similar to the feeling he had felt with Tonks.

"We have to go to the great hall," Daphne said. "Today's the inaugural feast."

Harry sighed. Today the contestants were chosen. The students had been ordered to be at the Great Hall. Anyone skipping it would be given detention.

Hermione filled the space on Harry's other side when he allowed Daphne to redirect his path from the Ravenclaw common room to the Great Hall. She was itching to ask him more about his magic. He had never hidden it but it was gaining points in the gossip network of Hogwarts. Since the arrival of the other schools, the different kinds of magic were all the school could talk about and the other schools had not failed to recognise the uniqueness of Harry Potter's magic.

The most awe inspiring were the four students from the Mahoutokoro School of Magic. A mysterious school towering atop the volcanic island of Minami Iwo Jima. The made strange signs with their hands and fingers to use magic. One of them had even blown fire from her mouth much to the amazement of the other schools. It was also rumoured the terrible Bellatrix Black, now Lestrange, had learnt dark magic from Mahoutokoro when she travelled the world after her time in Hogwarts.

Five schools including Hogwarts were participating in the tournament and tonight the five champions would be chosen. One student from each school had to fight the other four. The two with the greatest wins would face each other in the final.

Hermione finally summoned the courage to ask Harry the question.

"I've been researching wandless magic," she began. "And in my research I discovered some notes made by Flamel about the nature of magic," she continued in a strong voice.

Harry's ear twitched and he turned to look at Hermione. Suddenly the bushy haired short girl was interesting.

Hermione saw the interest in Harry's eyes and her confidence grew.

"According to his book on the study of Alchemy, magic is sentient. It is a living force that we have learnt how to access with our wands."

Harry stopped. "A sentient force?" he whispered. His mind spun. A sentient being was capable of thought. It had a consciousness. Was it possible that magic had a mind of its own? Did that mind have a purpose?

"That's right," Hermione continued. "He says alchemy is about feeling the nature of magic around us and allowing it to guide the decision of adding the elements required to create the supernatural elixirs, the elixir of life among them!"

Could magic be sentient? Was the white sentient? If so were runes the method of talking to it? Harry knew for a fact runes were the language of magic. But how were runes brought into the world? Had magic gifted the answer or had wizards been capable of it a long time ago? Had they known magic was sentient? Suddenly the lesson on the origins of runes held more bearing on Harry's thought process. He felt magic and had studied runes so deeply that he could make his own runes that called upon magic as per his design. But, if magic were sentient then it added an whole new dimension to the way he perceived magic.

"Harry?" Daphne called uncertainly. Harry had stopped and was staring at Hermione with an odd look in his eyes. As if he were staring past Hermione at a vastly complex problem that had a solution peeking beyond the shadows.

"I want the book," Harry said softly.

Hermione brightened. "Would you like to meet at the library? Tomorrow after breakfast? We can make it a study group!"

Harry sighed. "Hermione," he said softly. _"I want the book."_ He'd be damned if an overexcited teenager blabbed away while he determined if sentience was the answer reaching the abyss of Magic.

Hermione went quiet and her eyes widened when she saw darkness in his eyes. The same eyes she had seen years ago, when he had saved her from the Troll.

Fear struck her deep inside her soul and she felt herself nodding and saying with a quiver in her voice; "I'll give it after the Feast."

Satisfied Harry turned away and continued on towards the Great Hall. Hermione felt the momentary fear melt away and she realised she was sweating. She looked at Daphne with wide eyes and Daphne returned the look with an I told you so expression.

"Come on," Daphne sighed, taking a hold of the petrified girls hand and pulling her along. "We don't want to be late for the selection."

They hurried to catch up to Harry but when the turned to corner leading to the hall Harry was not to be seen. He had probably taken the left instead of the right and disappeared deeper into the castle.

"Fuck," Daphne cursed. "Andromeda had asked me to keep an eye on him!"

"Good job," Hermione muttered earning a levelled glare from the golden haired girl.

* * *

 **The Great Hall**

While Harry wandered about the castle. Choosing to disobey Dumbledore's threat of detention. The rest of the school was gathered in the Great Hall for the choosing of Champions.

The Goblet of Fire was being used to choose a worthy representative from each school.

The golden goblet, inlaid with beautiful carvings, held fire that was burning bright from within it. The was sitting on a wrought iron goblet holder that was four feet tall, black and had three curved legs.

Dumbledore stood up and the hall went silent.

"Students and Teachers of the magical world!" Dumbledore began with a grand smile and a delighted twinkle in his blue eyes. "Welcome to the ceremony of choosing of the seventh edition of the Inter school Duelling Tournament."

The clock struck eight and the fire in the goblet turned green. It was time.

A piece of parchment was spit out of the fire and Dumbledore gracefully caught it.

"The champion from Mahoutokoro School of Magic is Hitomi Murasaki!"

A tall girl with sharp angular features and red hair that was neatly braided and hung low stood up from the Gryffindor table. She was dressed in orange robes that had the symbol of fire on the front. The robes were split on both sides up to her knees revealed firm legs in white socks and sandals.

She acknowledged the polite applause with a gentle smile and disappeared into the room behind the teachers table where Dumbledore pointed.

The next chit was thrown out of the flames.

"For Durmstrang Institute, Victor Krum!"

A boy who looked more like muscle stood up from behind the Slytherin table. He was dressed in loose black robes with the Drumstrang crest on his right breast pocket. He had a neat goatee and acknowledged the cheers of his Quidditch fans with a stoic nod and then briskly followed Hitomi Murasaki.

"For Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table exploded in screams of joy.

"For Koldovstoretz school," Dumbledore hoped he pronounced it right. Russian was always difficult for him. "Mikhail Feodorovich!"

A silky brown haired, thin boy with alarmingly pale skin stood up gracefully from the Ravenclaw. He was wearing red robes and that had no crest. He flashed a smile at clapping children revealing sharp canines.

The Hogwarts students close to him gasped. He was a vampire and yet he walked in the sun!

The final name was given by the goblet and the fire died. "For Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Fleur Delacour!"

An exceedingly beautiful girl stood up at the Hufflepuff table. She was dressed in the blue of Beauxbaton and had pure silver hair that seemed to glow gold in the night. The was scatter laughter from the girls in the hall as the boys went from almost clapping to openly drooling.

"Would you mind controlling your aura Miss Delacour," Dumbledore asked with a chuckle. Veela were notoriously mischievous and even though Fleur was part Veela, her appetite for attention was just as potent as a pure Veela.

Fleur Delacour pulled in her aura with a smirk. The boys began to clap enthusiastically, in awe with her purity and beauty and Fleur spotted quite a many jealous glares from girls. She smiled at the few who caught her eyes wickedly and disappeared into the champions room of gathering.

"And there you have it!" Dumbledore announced. "Now enjoy the feast children. For in a fortnight begins the tournament!"

The student populace cheered as sumptuous eatable delicacies appeared on all the tables.

"Judges. Would you please follow me to the chamber with the champions?"

The other four heads of schools rose from their chairs and followed Dumbledore. Accompanying them was the reporter chosen to cover the event by the Daily Prophet. It was Rita Skeeter and her eyes swept across the great hall looking for her latest muse but Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen.

The excitement of the tournament had changed the atmosphere of Hogwarts from tense with the prospect of war to thrilled with the prospect of fights inside a ring with them as the spectators. If Harry had been there to see it, he would have for certain fit their reactions into his belief of survival of the fittest.

* * *

 **Twentieth November Nineteen Ninety-Four – Number Thirteen Grimmauld Place**

"My mother predicted it. The day after I ran away from home she sent me a howler. She cursed me. She promised all I ever loved would turn to ash. She was right."

It had taken a while but Sirius had finally burnt the last portrait of his mother. He stared at the ashes of the portrait and smelt burned oil wafting from the ashes.

The news of James disappearance and then manner of death had fuelled his rage hot enough to summon cursed fire.

"Come on Sirius. Let's go inside. They're waiting for us."

He was accompanied by Arthur Weasley. The Order of the Phoenix had not remained idle and had recruited from within the Ministry and the Rebellion.

Sirius and Arthur were met in the Living Room by Vance and the new recruit Hestia Jones.

"Albus has orders," Vance said dispensing with the formalities.

"Too busy to give them out himself is he?" Sirius mocked. "He's barely seen at Hogwarts too. Care to tell me how you got these orders?"

Vance smiled. "He whispered them to me," she said.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well. Go on then."

"Harry's trial has been scheduled during the vernal equinox. Voldemort intends to use him as a sacrifice for a ritual of power. He intends to destroy Gringotts and the Goblins in one blow."

Sirius whistled.

"Is Dumbledore certain?" asked Arthur. He sounded tired. He always sounded tired nowadays. He had his hands full, finding and hiding young muggleborn children or passing them under the protection of Ted.

"Voldemort has tasked Snape with gathering the ingredients."

"We can't trust that slime ball," Sirius muttered.

"He's saved our lives many times," Hestia said, jumping to Snape's defence.

"Enough," Vance said firmly. Her voice was iron if she willed it. "Sirius. You have to find allies in the foreign schools. We need strength from anywhere where we can get it."

"Wouldn't Dumbledore be ideal for it?"

"He's busy."

Sirius scowled.

"Arthur. How is the Ministries plan for muggleborn babies going?"

"I save one in every five," Arthur said sadly. "And two out of the four and spirited away to a secret Ministry facility. I cannot begin to imagine what they are doing to those children."

"You must find out more," Vance said softly. "Voldemort is back to full power and we need all the help we can get. Exposing this scheme will get the Rebellion more support from the undecided folk."

"Will the Rebellion be making a move soon? The more time we spend planning tactics and getaways, the more Voldemort's power will be consolidated," Sirius said solemnly.

Vance smiled humourlessly.

"It all boils down to the trial," she said. "There we either win or we die."

Hestia tensed. "So it's going to be an all-out attack?"

"Andromeda will be replaced by Albus a day before the trial as Harry's representative. With Dumbledore inside and us attacking from outside, we stand a greater chance of breaking down the Ministries defences."

"It's a huge gamble Emmeline!" Arthur protested.

"It's the only one we'll ever get," Vance retorted. "Like it or not. It's going to boil down to one battle."

Sirius sighed. "We win or we die."

Vance nodded grimly. She had never thought such a day would come so soon. The fact that she hadn't seen it coming made her feel like she had failed in her role as a the shadow who knew everything that happened in the magical world before it happened. "Win or Die," she whispered.

The end was near.


	32. Return of the Rage

**Return of the Rage**

 **Twenty Fourth November Nineteen Ninety-Four**

It was before the crack of dawn when Harry opened his eyes. He could hear it. His dreams and the screams. Swirling in a chaotic whirlpool, receding into the vast unknowable desert that was his subconscious.

He tried grabbing at the disappearing thoughts and they slipped past his mental grasp into nothing.

Harry yawned.

His awakening from sleep had been the same for the past six months. Thrilling chaos slipping from his grasp as soon as he woke up.

He took a deep breath and stretched his legs under warm sheets. A moment later he slid out of bed and dragged his feet to the window for a breath of the darkness before dawn.

The first touch of the cool wind against his eyes felt the like the jolt of an enervate charm and the world beyond filtered through his eyes.

It was pure darkness. A new moon night. Save for the candles dimly lighting the inside the dorm, it was a void that controlled the night. Peering into its heart was awe-inspiring.

A moment later the darkness was split apart by a line of blue and dawn arrived with breath-taking grandness.

The day of the first round of the duelling tournament had arrived and Harry was excited to see the duels just like the rest of the school. A stage were wizards and witches fought with magic to win? The idea fit into his view of the world like skin over flesh.

Harry grinned as he thought about the contestants. If there was one participant he was curious to see wield magic, it was Hitomi Murasaki. Magic flowed through her heavier than most. If magic looked like air in others, it looked like sludge in her. There was a thickness to it that Harry didn't understand and magic that he didn't understand fascinated him.

Feeling refreshed and wide awake, Harry gathered his school robes, neatly ironed and placed on his school trunk by the house elves who kept the school from falling apart. Harry hadn't encountered one so far but he knew they existed and were overseen by overseer and caretaker - Filch.

Half an hour later, he was dressed, washed and presentable. He cut a forgettable image in clean black robes above which sat long solemn face attached to a thin neck. His neat black hair that was kept respectably neat and pushed to one side revealing a pale lightning shape scar. The nurse had insisted on cutting it after the yearly physical examination. Harry hadn't protested. It didn't bother him whether his hair was long or short or not there at all.

He headed down to the great lake for a walk and noticed the red robed shadow that took position at a respectable distance from him.

Harry scowled.

The Aurors never gave up. He resisted the desire to turn around and slam that tall weak wizard into the wall until he was a beautiful shade of red.

His mood appropriately darkened, Harry stepped out of the castle as the grand entrance doors swung open without prompting. Hogwarts always opened its door for students. It was the professors who made the rules.

Harry smiled. Magic - pure and untainted was always a joy to be around and Hogwarts was filled to the brim with it. It was why he could call Hogwarts a home.

He strolled towards the lake amidst the glow of morning. Mist hung low over the green grass and thickened as his eyes trailed towards the forbidden forest. The knowledge of the red cloak behind him stayed his desire to return to his desert and instead he had settled under his favourite tree closest to the lake.

It felt like peace.

For a moment Harry entertained the idea of returning to the desert, the real desert. He contemplated leaving behind this life and embracing the harshness of the desert and magic. A year ago, he would have done it. He would have acted on his whims and fancies without second thought. But now, after all that had happened, he couldn't do it. He had a dream to fulfil now. A vision forged by the hands of those clawing at him… pulling on his skin… trying to change his colours. And after his green was activated, he had discovered ambition as well. The Will needed to change Dreams into Reality.

He was distracted by the sound of something splashing in the lake and the sound penetrated the soft silence of the sunrise and whispers of the little creatures awakening with the sun.

The something was someone who had jumped off the house on a boat anchored near the east shore and as Harry squinted and used magic to look closer, he noticed it was Victor Krum. The Drumstrang champion's head bobbed in the water as he swam with powerful arm strokes towards its far end.

The slam of wood against wood drew his attention to the column of five carriages near Hagrid's hut and the Beauxbaton champion jogged out wearing light blue jogging gear. Harry's attention was drawn to her. Her magic was different as well. All her colours looked like they were on fire and her orange was abnormally powerful. Harry had found himself needing to be careful not to get enchanted by its hypnotic pulse every time she came close to him. Her orange stirred his own and he felt odd sensations in his gut urging him to do something… anything. It was highly disconcerting and harry made it a point to away from the cream coloured lady with deep blue eyes.

Harry slowed his breathing and controlled his magic as she ran past him. Her blonde ponytail bounced as she ran and she spared a split second glance at him as she began her daily rounds of the lake.

He breathed in relief when she gained distance from him and turned his gaze on the large tent that was set up in the Quidditch grounds. The flag of the Koldovstoretz school fluttered high atop the centre pole.

The Hogwarts houses were not pleased when they learnt where the Russian students had set up camp. It had resulted in the Quidditch season being cancelled. The Tournament was the reason the season had been cancelled but for a visiting school to set up camp in holy grounds was just pouring salt on open wounds.

The students of Mahoutokoro had taken up residence with the Gryffindor's.

As the sun rose higher, one by one, more early risers began to trickle out of the castle. Activity gained energy and soon the sky turned bright and blue as the shadow of the morning sun began to stretch long. Dozens of owls began to be seen flying into windows clutching the Daily News in their talons.

A bell rang from within the castle signalling the start of breakfast and serving as a wakeup call to those still sleeping.

Harry's morning ritual complete, he stood up, dusted his robes and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The red cloak dutifully followed him.

When Harry entered the hall and the eyes of the students reading the prophet noticed his presence and whispers began to slither across tables.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He saw the colours of fear and excitement. There was something in the news.

He reached the Ravenclaw table and saw a face he had forgotten about. It was Luna Lovegood.

She was wearing odd glasses that seemed to have a spiralling lens and had earrings with tiny radishes hanging off curved metal ends. Her pale blonde hair was left loose and messy and as long as she was tall. The white flicked over her head and sank into her vibrant colours with lazy precision.

She looked up when Harry came close and smiled. "Hello Harry," she said. Her voice was young and held a dream like quality.

"Hello," Harry replied evenly. He spared a curious look at her white and wondered if she was aware of it as he took the seat opposite her and turned open the plate on the table.

"I'm sorry about your childhood," she said sympathetically.

Harry blinked. "What?"

Luna glanced at the morning newspaper that the boys sitting close by were reading. They kept shooting looks at him varying from horror to fear and some in pity.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He opened the face of his palm and the third year boys squeaked when the Prophet was ripped out if their hands and zoomed towards Harry.

His eyes widened when he saw the headline.

It was the Rita Skeeter exclusive everybody had been waiting for and it was dimensions apart from what they had had in mind.

Harry's fingers crushed the edges of the paper as he began reading. The rage in the Void grew with every word he devoured.

 ** _The Tragedy of Number Four Privet Drive_** read the headline.

Harry's past had just been torn open by the Daily Prophet's acidic reporter and by the time the clock struck nine, Harry Potter had become the focus of Hogwarts and Magical Britain. His story eclipsed everything from the Civil War to the Duelling Tournament.

Those around him moved away in fear as an aura of danger began to shiver through the hall. Everyone assumed it was his reaction to the public revelation that he had killed his relatives to become a murder at the age of nine.

They were all wrong.

It was just two words in the article that triggered his rage.

"I was not abused nor was I traumatised," he hissed. The void sprang out of him with the intention of shredding everything in its path.

Students screamed as part of the table exploded in front of Harry.

He had been weak back then and the Dursley's had been stronger. It was that simple. Now he was strong and only the strongest survived. His rage focused into revenge and he made a promise.

"I am going to kill Rita Skeeter," he whispered.

"Harry Potter!" the Auror trailing him shouted in alarm when the table exploded into dangerous splinters. He had summoned a shield to protect the students close by and then pointed his wand at Harry with its tip glowing red. "Stand down!"

Harry didn't even bother lifting a finger and the Auror was hit was a force so powerful it sent him careening across the floor of the fall and he smashed into the Gryffindor table before losing consciousness.

Taking out the annoying red cloak following him all the time gave him a sense of satisfaction that he had long missed. It helped calm his rage down to the levels of a stormy sea.

Appetite lost, Harry got up to leave the hall and made his way to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster and he were going to have words about this.

A curious pair of coal coloured eyes tracked Harry's movement until he left the hall. "Who was that?" asked Hitomi Murasaki. She spoke slowly and carefully. Her English was not very good and it had a heavy Japanese accent. Hitomi took care not to make a mistake when speaking in a foreign language. She hated making mistakes. It was that trait of hers that led her to becoming Champion.

"Harry Potter," Hermione supplied helpfully. "Resident psycho of Hogwarts," she added humourlessly as she stared at the gruesome artist's rendition of a baby faced Harry Potter, sitting over a woman, holding a knife dripping with blood with a familiar crazy grin lighting his face with mad glee.

The truth of Harry Potter was finally out in the open.

Hitomi rubbed her forearms feeling goose-bumps as her magic reacted to his. "He is strong," she said with a gleam of interest. "He should be in the tournament."

Hermione gaped at the redhead. "Have you been reading this?" she exclaimed, pointing at the newspaper. "He's a murderer and a psychopath. It'll be a miracle if he's allowed to stay at the school now! I can't imagine parents are going to be happy about him being around their kids."

Hitomi smiled politely. "You are right," she agreed. "My apologies." Hitomi glanced at her friends from home and smiled at them knowingly.

 _"Master will not allow it Hitomi."_

 _"He's the most powerful of them all,"_ Hitomi replied with a grin. " _Don't you want to fight him at least once?"_

Hermione's eyes roved on the students from Mahoutokoro cluelessly as they spoke in their native tongue at a rapid and animated pace. They had a habit of communicating in their native tongue and it was obvious they were doing it on purpose. She thought it was quite rude.

* * *

 **Hagrid's Hut – Noon**

"I'm going to kill her!" Harry raged. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were burning with the image of Rita Skeeter screaming in terror while prostrate before him. How dare she imply he was weak!

The news had taken Dumbledore by surprise as well. No one had seen it coming and no one knew how Skeeter had managed to unearth the secret that Dumbledore had tried so hard to protect. If anyone cared to ask her she would reveal her source to be Dudley Dursley without much protest. It hadn't been hard tracking down the sole survivor of Harry's killing spree and Rita had been surprised no one had hidden him away.

"You're going to go away," Dumbledore replied. "You have no idea how serious your situation has become. With your past laid bare there's no way for me to keep you at Hogwarts anymore."

Harry scowled.

"I don't care," he spat.

"You don't have to," Dumbledore said coolly. "You just have to lay low until I sort this mess out."

Harry scoffed.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice ripe with scorn. "I have laid low as you said. I have tolerated these people who are unworthy of calling themselves witches and wizards. I will tolerate it no longer. You can't let me believe that you think these wretched creatures are worth hiding from. I will crush them all! I will show them the true face of magic!"

"Calm down 'Arry," Hagrid said.

"It's not the time," Dumbledore said with steel in his voice. "You will gain nothing by killing Skeeter. You will only make things worse for yourself and the full power of Voldemort and the Ministry will fall upon you. No Harry. Not even you with your power will be able to stand up to that kind of might. Perhaps you will amaze and kill hundreds with your magic but make no mistake, if you act irrationally... **_you will fall_**."

Harry growled under his breath. The headmaster was right. He didn't have the power. The path to accessing the source was still frustratingly out of his grasp. Reason overpowered his rage and he realised there was no other way out of this quandary. He had to leave Hogwarts. He had to hide.

"Where will I go? Back to the Cottage?"

"Oh you're going to love this 'arry," Hagrid said excitedly. "You and I are going to Romania!"

Harry stared with a blank expression at Hagrid. "What's in Romania?" he asked Dumbledore.

"A safe place," Dumbledore said with a soft smile.

"And Dragons!" exclaimed Hagrid. "We're going to see the dragons 'arry!"

Harry's eyes widened fractionally. He turned towards Dumbledore with surprise.

"The Romanian dragon reserve is vast and its wards are practically air tight," Dumbledore explained. "You will be free to roam within its perimeter until the day comes when you have to return."

"And why will I want to return?" Harry asked softly.

Dumbledore laughed dryly. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Because I will give you the chance to let loose with the might of an army behind you. All you have to do is be patient until the day of your trial. Now, can you do that Harry? Can you control your urge to kill and destroy until the time is right?"

Harry remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes became blank and expression unreadable as we weighed the pros and cons. "Does this mean I'm going to miss the tournament?"

Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "I'll show you the pensive memories if I have the time."

Harry smiled.

"Alright professor Dumbledore. I'll follow your tune... for now."


	33. The Trial

**The Trial**

 **Time Unknown**

 _Why was I brought into this world?_

When faced against the vast universe that moved with a will unfathomable by man, man always questioned his existence.

That was the thought that engulfed Harry's world when he saw a dragon for the first time.

It was pure intoxicating power. The magic that made a dragon was so vast that Harry found it difficult to find his way back to his reality.

Charlie Weasley incorrectly assumed Harry was transfixed by the imposing physical size and predatory visage.

It was made lay within that had enchanted him. And to see them sedated under the superfluous magic used by witches and wizards agonised Harry. How could such powerful monsters be controlled by mere witches and wizards?! It could not be allowed. It was an insult to the true nature of magic.

 _Why was I brought into this world?_

The thought resounded in his ears.

 _Why was I brought into this world?_

* * *

While Harry began to experience what could only be described as his second existential crisis. Daphne was experiencing a thrilling encounter of magic between Cedric Diggory and Hitomi Murasaki.

The Hogwarts Great Hall was alive with screams of cheers and crackling duellists pouring all their power into beating each other.

Daphne was one of the few Hogwarts students cheering madly for the girl from Mahoutokoro.

"Beat her down Cedric!" a Hufflepuff screamed.

Hitomi was flicking out magic from the tips of her fingers. She moved with the grace of an acrobat, pulling out amazing feats of body manipulation and destructive magic was let loose when she danced herself into specific poses.

The great hall was removed of all tables and in the centre a dome was set up that served as a magical shield to keep the duellists in and the audience out.

The judges were seated at a high table near the entrance to the hall and everywhere else was packed with students, radio operators and reporters from every corner of the magical world.

Representatives from the ICW joined the judges at the high table and were observing the duel with diplomatic excitement.

Cedric used transfiguration and charms to amazing effect and Hitomi was besieged by attacking falcons and powerful tornadoes of wind.

 _"And Hitomi is sent hurtling by Cedric's whirlpools of death!"_ Ludo Bagman was killing it as a commentator.

It was the finals of the tournament. Cedric had made it there by winning three duels and Hitomi had won all four. Fleur Delacour had beaten only Victor Krum and Mikhail Ferodorovich had beaten Fleur and Krum. Drumstrang had turned out to be the biggest disappointment after all the hype about their prowess in dark magic.

In the end Hitomi's unbelievable speed turned out to be far to superior and when Cedric showed an opening after being forced to take a breath to prepare his next spell chain, Hitomi struck with brutal efficiency. She shot forward like an arrow with one arm behind her back and the other pointed as fist at Cedric with a single finger out. Lighting shot out of the tip of her long nail and Cedric went into shock as it lanced through his shoulder.

Hitomi lowered herself and swung on the balls of her left feet to lash out with her right under Cedric's chin.

Cedric was unconscious by the time his airborne body hit the floor.

Majority of the hall went silent and exuberant cheers from the supporters of Hitomi erupted with joy. The Hogwarts champion had lost. Mahoutokoro school of Magic had won!

Daphne hugged Tracy. "Go girl power!" she shouted pumping her fist in the air.

The nearby Hufflepuffs gave her dirty looks.

Soon the cheers subdued and applause filled the air as Cedric was quickly healed by the Healers and brought back to consciousness. When he was able to move, he shook hands with Hitomi and the pair turned to face the judges as the dome of magic was undone.

Daphne was eager to hear the speeches but a tap on her shoulder reminded her of the great burden that lay on her shoulders today.

It was Sirius. "It's time," he said solemnly, his dark mood unaffected by the joyous one.

Daphne smiled at Tracey's concerned look. "It'll be fine," she said.

The date of Harry's trial had arrived.

* * *

Gringotts was shut down for the first time since its opening. An army of vicious goblins armed to the teeth with battle axes and spears stood in formation in complete silence. Their Magistrate was at the Ministry of Magic and his word was what they were waiting for.

Today it was revenge granted or war promised.

* * *

 **Twenty First March Nineteen Ninety-Five – Norwegian Ridgeback enclosure**

"He's in there," said Charlie with amusement.

The walked was the small gate that had a flimsy barbed wire fence that stretched miles into the distance curving into the horizon. The dragon enclosures were guarded by wards, not walls.

Albus and Charlie walked into the barren area that had a few trees around. The land steadily rose in altitude becoming mountains before the horizon. It was midday and the sun burned down on the Earth like a wood in fire.

"How has he been?" Albus asked as Charlie led him deeper into the enclosure, to the camp at the foot of the mountain range. Many rode brooms to cover the distance and a few took portkeys. Rare were those dragon handlers who chose to walk long distances in the dragon reserve.

"Keeps to himself mostly and totally obsessed with dragons," Charlie said with a bright laugh. "He's always around when we bring one of 'em down for check-ups and harvesting. Last couple of days we've been collecting the blood from a Ridgeback and little Potter has been there watching like a shadow on the wall."

"Any unusual behaviour?"

"Well he does keep muttering about a project and some of the handlers found him doing this really cool thing with runes. He created a ward that warped anyone who entered its space. It didn't work out the way he planned cause he wasn't able to undo it and we had to mark a perimeter around it. Some of the lads enjoy trying to make their way out when they enter inside. We usually have to toss them a rope or something to pull them out." Charlie laughed.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose high. "Did he say more?"

"Na," Charlie said. "We did ask him about it of course but he just said it was for extra credit in Ancient Runes. The boys a right genius I tell you. I think he feels like this place is home. I've been telling him about how to become a dragon handler as well!"

Dumbledore chuckled but on the inside his guts were turning. What Charlie just said was similar to the strange wards he had found in the desert between the breach of the forbidden forest.

"Has he said anything about the trial?"

"Not a word. It's like he doesn't care at all. Maybe we ought to let him remain here. We've kept his presence a secret for this long and we can keep doing it longer still."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Voldemort will never give up getting his hands on Harry."

Charlie pursed his lips. His always cheerful outlook dimming a tad.

The ground became rocky and the pair trekked over large boulders and came across a small valley. Within in was a twenty-foot-long Norwegian Ridgeback with leather wings that were dark as night.

It was shackled to the ground with metal chains all over its body and there were at least a dozen needles attached to its under belly from where blood was being drained for use in potions and research.

Dumbledore's lips pursed in disapproval but he knew there was no other way. The alternative was killing the dragons and draining them dry.

"There he is," Charlie announced as the got close enough to see the monstrous beast. Its skin was a mix of blue and green and it had large bone spikes curving out of the length of its spine. The longest bone spike was at the tip of its snout and sitting atop it and staring into the sky was Harry.

Dumbledore looked at Charlie incredulously.

"Like I said," Charlie said with a grin. "He loves them dragons."

Harry noticed Dumbledore's approach and his carefree expression soured. Mr Duty and Responsibility was coming to take him for the trial.

Smoke billowed from the dragon's large nostrils. It was heavily sedated and its eyes were drooped.

"Ready to go Harry?" Dumbledore asked, raising his voice to be heard over the handlers shouting instructions at each other.

Harry jumped and slowly landed on the ground defying the pull of gravity.

"Learnt some new tricks have you?"

Harry grinned psychotically. "Lots."

Dumbledore removed a plastic duck from his robes and stuck out his hand. "Portkey," he explained. "Straight to the Ministry."

"Is there light at the end of this tunnel?"

"We have a plan."

* * *

 **Diagon Alley – Mid-day**

The muggleborn rebels were tense. They were in disguise everywhere. Some sat in the Leaky Cauldron. Many roamed the alley and the bulk of the force was camped in a building opposite an out of order telephone booth.

Ted and Vance were sitting in the Cauldron sipping on water in a shadowed corner of the bar. Aurors patrolled the streets and the rebels went unnoticed. It was as if the Aurors were waiting as well.

"All the portkeys are set for one hour from now," Vance whispered. "We attack as soon as the trial begins."

"What about the wards?" Ted asked steadily.

"It's going to take a full front assault from the telephone entrance to give Kingsley and Arthur to infiltrate the department of mysteries and destroy the ward stones."

"Until then blood will be spilt. Are you ready?"

"All of us are ready to die," Ted said softly. "If you say this is the way then this is the way Emmeline."

"It's the only way. Voldemort's return to power took everyone by surprise. If we don't strike now, we're never going to get the chance again."

Ted sighed. "I hope Amelia is as successful with the attack as she is confident."

"Pray Ted," Vance said. "Pray that we succeed or else our world is doomed to be controlled by monsters who would see the innocent burn."

Ted stared at the wall behind Vance. He hoped Daphne would be okay. Her letters and encouraging howlers had kept the Rebellions will strong.

* * *

 **Ministry Court Room – Half an hour past midday.**

"Remember Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "Do not attack until I give the signal."

Harry nodded absently and his face was carefully blank. Dumbledore could not pinpoint if that meant Harry understood him or was going to ignore him.

The ancient wizard pushed open the doors to the court room and was immediately met by a blast of cold air and terrible memories.

His eyes widened in horror and he quickly conjured his phoenix patronus. He turned to see if Harry was alright and found Harry on his knees, panting and shaking.

Dumbledore put more power into his patronus and the silver glow bathed the courtroom and pushed the dementors back.

"Come on Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "We have to keep moving." He gently held Harry's arm and pulled him to his feet. In the process he met Harry's eyes and his heart sank when he saw what was reflected in them.

Fear. It was fear. What did Harry see? There were dozens of Dementors floating about and all their hoods seemed to be focused on Harry.

"Welcome Headmaster Dumbledore," came a silky voice from within. The former Wizengamot hall was filled with people and a few goblins who were there to observe the result of the trial. He saw Knights of Walpurgis seated among the crowd, not bothering with disguises and he saw Amelia's undercover Aurors as well. Rita Skeeter and her trope of reporters were seated at the press corner while Patricia Potter, Harry's distant squid relative was speaking softly into a radio broadcaster.

In the centre of the large hall, lit with fire and candles, was a black chair beside which stood Andromeda Tonks.

Dumbledore led Harry to the chair and chains sprang to life to bind his wrists.

"Don't panic Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "Everything's going to change."

The fear receded and cold determination took over emerald green eyes.

"Yes," Harry said vaguely. "I know why I exist."

Dumbledore frowned. He didn't understand but there was no time to contemplate those strange words. Lucius Malfoy had banged the wood hammer on his table signalling the start of the trial and to shock of everyone, he stood up.

"Lords and Ladies!" he announced grandly. "Before we begin the trial of Potter verses Gringotts, allow me to make a rather important announcement."

Quills scratched against parchment and radio corespondents spoke softly into their microphones.

"Our government has undergone many changes over the past year and today after a long struggle we are about to enter into a state of stability." Malfoy paused while everyone breathed in his words. "In order to usher into a new era new leadership is required and therefore it is my great pleasure and honour to pass the baton on to the new King of Magical Britain - Lord Voldemort!"

More than eighty percent of the people clapped loudly as a handsome man, tall and pale, with dark hair and blue eyes, looking barely over the age of thirty stepped out of the chamber that used to be reserved for the chief warlock.

It was the dawn of a new era.


	34. Prophecy Realised

**Prophecy Realised**

"Monster!" jeered a voice in the crowd.

The trial was underway and Harry sat, chained in the chair, trying to drown out the voice of his mother's screams.

 _The word monster is just a matter of perspective. Beings considered dangerous to humans are termed Monster. They are feared because they are stronger._ Harry thought as laughter erupted in the Courtroom.

He never thought he would reach the point where he had no choice but to unleash the curse. He had always thought about doing it. He had planned to do it. It was his dream to see it unleashed. And now, when the moment had come, he realised he was only going to go through with it because his hand was being forced.

Andromeda was shouting something and Harry spotted Daphne defending him on the stands but their efforts meant nothing to him.

Right now, his mind struggled to purge the sight of his mother – pleading and begging for his life to be saved and shielding him from an evil man with snake like eyes and a cruel high pitched mocking voice.

 _Move aside silly girl._

His mother's pleading had a severe effect on his green. It began to pulse with dark energies and his breathing quickened. There was a dull ache in the centre of his chest.

The phoenix patronus made a pass around Harry and his thoughts returned to him. Harry glared at the dementors. He could see inside them and it was nothing. There was just a black hole that was hungry for magic. All around them magic was slowly drained into a void that felt like the antithesis of Harry's understanding of what he called the Void. To him, the void was comfort. The void inside the dementors on the other hand was terrible. When they focused their powers on him, he relived the worst memories of his life and the one scene that repeated over and over again was the evil man murdering his mother and then turning his wand on him.

 _You're the one destined to defeat me?_ The voice mocked cruelly at him.

Harry growled under his breath and closed his eyes. _Focus,_ he commanded himself. But it was hard. He was feeling those emotions he had felt when the man from the forest had brought the green out of him. This time he wasn't going to let it control him.

The dementors got another shot and he saw the red hair of his mother shielding him from a monster. Her screams resonated in his ears and his head drooped as he clenched his jaws to try and block out the voice. It was of no use. He recognized the feeling in his chest as love. It had crippled him before. He was not going to let it take over him again.

The effect the dementors were having on Harry was not unnoticed by Dumbledore and a few others close enough to observe him.

Lord Voldemort noticed too as he seemed pleased. He stretched out with his mind and touched his enemies mind earning a startle from the old headmaster.

 _"Is it time Albus?"_ he asked in Albus's mind. _"Is your little rebellion going to play attack now?"_

Dumbledore tossed aside the touch of legilimency and calmly eyed Voldemort with disapproval. On the inside he was counting down the seconds. Voldemort was expecting an attack. Of course, he had planned ahead. Five more minutes and Amelia would bomb the telephone booth entrance sky high. It was time to see if muggle weapons of destruction were as dangerous as they sounded.

It was an open secret to all in the room. News had been filtering down from person to person since last December. The dark lord had returned. He had taken over the Ministry and planned to carve out a piece of Britain that witches and wizards could openly call home. It was a dream most purebloods had long given up on and the return of Voldemort sang the tune of an independent country united under a true pureblood wizard.

Only a minority opposed this idea and they had become a part of the rebellion. The rebellion believed in equal rights for all magical creatures and peaceful coexistence with the muggles in continued secret. The muggleborn army gave Voldemort an opportunity to wipe them all out at once and with their strength and size, he needed an equally powerful force and had found that in Goblins and Werewolves. No Knights would be joining that fight. He preferred the muggleborns and goblins killed each other. Then the Knights would swoop in and take them all out to complete the annihilation of the old world. That was the dark lord's plan and he was content to wait in the court room bantering words with the old headmaster while his plans came to fruition.

Once the dust was settled he was going to offer Harry a choice. Join him and dwell deep into magic unknown or die with the rest of the scum. Somehow, Voldemort had a feeling Harry would choose to join him based on all that he had heard about the boy.

"Mr Potter."

The pointless q&a had finally reached the point where Harry had to answer for himself but Harry was sitting with his head down and not twitching.

"Mr Potter!" Mafalda Hopkirk shouted. She was judge appointed for this case as the incident came under the purview of underage magic and Hopkirk was trusted to be a fair judge.

"Order the dementors back," Andromeda hissed furiously.

Harry had planned on unleashing the desert curse in the courtroom. He knew with his current capabilities it would not cover the grand scale he desired but it would be enough to trap thousands of witches and wizards within it. It would be enough to teach these snivelling miserable creatures what true power is.

That was his plan before experiencing the hellish mental torture of the dementors. He was struggling to keep their magic at bay. The many patronuses that guarded the crowd and even Dumbledore's patronus could not see the true nature of the dementors. They were not afraid of the patronuses or even repulsed by them. It was too much green energy for them to take it at once. They did it slow and steadily which is why they also took their time to suck the cores out of humans. Harry could see colours from the patronus, from all the humans, even the wards, slowly gravitating towards the dementors and get sucked under those dark, dangerous hoods.

Suddenly they backed away and Harry felt the pressure of their attack evapourate into nothing. He was able to breathe again. His colours burnt bright again and his green glowed equally strong.

It was a shock to his system and he felt different. Like he was complete. Was it the euphoria following the horrible attack? He could feel his mother inside him. He felt her unconditional love protecting him.

Sirius frowned in the witness stand. Harry was looking strange, he thought. He's genuinely smiling. What's going on?

Harry raised his head and opened his eyes.

The audience gasped. His pupil had turned pure white and the iris was fading.

Even Dumbledore and Voldemort were surprised.

Suddenly a boom echoed faintly inside the courtroom and the ceiling shook, sending fistful of dust and cobwebs tumbling down to the floor.

Many gripped their wands. The attack had begun.

 **Outside** , above the surface, fire streaked high in the sky followed by a mountain of smoke as a massive explosion tore a hole in a relatively vacant part of London.

Its booming echo was heard and the smoke could be seen from almost all over the city.

Sirens began to ring out loud. Police and Paramedics began to converge towards the explosion. Was this a terrorist attack? They all thought with worry and fear. However, when they began to get close to the source of the fire, they suddenly remembered far more important things to do and turned around and left.

Strange news waves began to spread like wildfire through the country and across the world. Terrorists had struck in London but no one seemed to know why or even go near the source. A supernatural power was at work. Conspiracy theories began to run wild by the time Amelia and her army invaded the Ministry of Magic.

"For freedom!" she screamed as black robed witches and wizards began to pour into the atrium from the huge hole that had been blown into the ground and through the toughest of wards.

 _For freedom!_ The rebellion fighters thundered behind her and hundreds began to rush into the ministry with their wands raised and a war cry on their lips.

Waiting for them in equally large numbers were Aurors and goblins. Amelia Bones was the first to die when a red cloaked werewolf dug its sharp teeth into her neck, slipping past her guard with incredible speed, and tore her head off.

Bodies clashed into each other and in seconds the atrium was flooded with magicals whose only goal was to tear their opponents apart. With their hands or wands, it didn't matter.

The Ministry had turned into a battle zone and the bodies began to pile.

* * *

Magic.

It had always been about **magic**. The wonder brought upon by magic into a material world full of pain and suffering.

Harry Potter loved magic. Not just the breath-taking products of magic but with the true nature of magic itself. He hated the perverse way it was used and considered it a terrible insult to a power that was so much more than just spells and enchantments.

Magic was alive. Magic was conscious. Magic understood.

Harry had realised magic was a language. Then he discovered it was sentient. And when he met with Dragons, he discovered magic was always speaking, waiting to be heard. Desiring to be truly communicated with.

Spells made by wizards were a poor means of communication. It was one sided. Magic was never truly heard.

Harry never realised it until his green was forced open with pain. It led him to discover what a mother's love felt like and the answer that he had been looking for.

It couldn't be explained. He just understood.

All his selfish desires began to melt away. His identity began to disappear in the euphoria of finally touching the source.

Reality became a shadow and Harry entered into a realm of magic.

He was standing in an undulating sea of white that felt like it was moving with an endless force, reaching out beyond the horizons in all directions. The sky was white and when Harry looked down on his body, he realised he didn't have clothes on and his skin was glowing white as well.

Harry's mind had let go of desire and found something more. "They don't understand," Harry whispered.

His glow turned green and the world around him changed green, the wind that was still felt pleasantly warm and magic agreed with Harry.

The sea turned blue and Harry's glow followed and then turned green and red.

"My journey is not complete," Harry murmured. "Only death closes the curtains on my journey. You understand don't you? I am human."

The sea beneath him began to appear turbulent and its colours rapidly cycled between green, red and blue. It was hypnotic. Magic was talking to Harry and Harry understood.

"I want to teach them about you," Harry argued. "Isn't it lonely here?"

The turbulence ceased and the sea and sky turned clam and violet.

"Will you help me?"

The world turned red. Magic had agreed to lend a hand.

Power unlike anything Harry had ever felt before began to fill his nerves at the speed of a running tortoise. Reality blurred back into his mind and he felt magic reach into every organ in his body at a microscopic level and intensity.

He had to focus on the dream to not lose control. Magic saw his dream and Harry felt the dream begin to morph as magic adopted his Will. Harry's didn't deny magic. Magic had its own mind and was free to influence his dreams.

The people before him came into greater clarity than ever and all of them were staring at him with wonder and fear in their eyes.

"Am I so frightening?" Harry asked softly, his voice reaching every crack in the room with cold clarity.

Everyone felt like they had just been whipped with Harry's words. They hurriedly gathered their thoughts and almost all of them sneered down at him.

Dumbledore and the others fighting for Harry felt worried and afraid.

"HA!" screamed Bellatrix Lestrange from the audience. "You're just a ickle baby in need of my special love!" she cackled. Her purple eyes were alive. She could sense it. The slow crawl of power building up inside her Lord's enemy. She laughed madly. What was the boy planning? she thought. She couldn't wait to confront him.

Bellatrix's mock ignited the crowd and jeers began to pour down on an indifferent Harry. His eyes had returned to green from the momentary white and to all others he looked like a normal boy. Confident, serene and absolutely unconcerned about the events surrounding him.

It was the unconcern in his eyes that made them angry and hateful towards him.

With a few words, Harry had made them all actually look at him and attempt to digest his words. They were completely out of context with the trial but they all understood something deep within them.

There was only one power in the room. They all realised it and denied it with all their heart.

"Order!" shouted Malfoy. "Order in the courtroom!"

"Mr Potter. You were asked a question and the law demands an answer!"

Bellatrix felt it first and then Voldemort and Dumbledore felt it. There was something vast engulfing the room, making them feel like they were about to fall into a dark inescapable chasm. Something powerful was radiating from the boy chained in the chair before them. Those white eyes had meant something. What was going on with the boy?

Dumbledore recognized it as what he had felt when he had tried reading the magical notes left behind by the desert in the forest. His mind spun as it linked all the pieces of Harry he knew, trying to understand what Harry was doing and how magic was responding to him and why? All the conclusions his brilliant mind came to were not positive. To begin with Harry had ignored all that he had said and was going to attack before the signal was given.

"What question?" Harry asked politely. His mind was strained to its limits with the flood of power that was filling his organic cells and slowly permeating out of his body like vapours of fire.

A rumbling sound from far outside echoed in the courtroom and many tensed. Everyone had their wands out. It could happen at any moment. A magical confrontation between Voldemort and Dumbledore.

A conflict spanning decades in its first head-on arrival.

"Do you challenge this court's judgement?"

Harry remembered why he was here. All for the sake of bottomless egos.

"All of you are worthless," Harry said. The magic was building up now. It was obvious. Those in the front were beginning to feel it. They could feel something pure. Something they felt like they had long forgotten was a part of them and they could not believe they had been missing it all this time. "Magic you can touch and instead you waste it on games and politics. Pathetic."

The feeling began to spread faster and a pressure – like wind turning on them from all directions began to press down gently and steadily increasing in strength. Soon everyone in the courtroom could feel it and were transfixed with wonder.

Dumbledore and Voldemort realised with shock this was not something wonderful. This was terribly dangerous. It was some kind of a spell and it was gaining tremendous power at alarming speed.

Sirius Black was the first to spring into action.

"Whatever you're doing Harry! Stop it now!" he shouted.

They heard a howl. A howl, not of sound, but of magic.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry to incapacitate him and Dumbledore stood in the way with a loud "NO!" and summoned a shield to stop the red stunner.

"Fuck," breathed Sirius in horror. The first spell had been cast. Voldemort and Dumbledore glared at each other and for a moment there was complete silence before Bellatrix laughed madly and blew the head of the man sitting in front of her.

Blood, brain, bone and fluids splattered the people before everyone burst into action. Spells began to fly and screams began to drown amidst magic that was twisting into runes as it was guided by Harry's will, stretching as far as it could go, replicating and spreading all over the city and beyond.

Harry could no longer think. He held on to his dream of the desert and magic took over the rest of his dream, changing it, as it grew to understand him.

In the burst of fighting Daphne Greengrass took careful aim and with accuracy Bellatrix would be proud of, cast a piercing curse at Lucius Malfoy's neck from behind his back.

Dumbledore and Voldemort had snapped into action and were duelling each other with ferocious speed. Sirius was picking out Walpurgis knights while hiding behind an upturned witness stand and was concentrating on keeping the dementors away from him and Harry while the monsters began to feast on everyone else.

Chaos had engulfed the courtroom. Harry saw it all. He stopped moulding when he couldn't take the power anymore.

It was time. Time to let go.

Harry closed his eyes, surrendered to the Void and his consciousness was lost to time and space.

Alarmed shouts pierced the room when sand began to burst out of the floor and walls.

Outside the ministry, in Diagon Alley, where the second battle was occurring, confusion reigned the ground beneath their feet began to crumble.

The web of magic continued to spread with no intention to stop.

No one in the entire city understood what was happening. The Earth was shaking, the ground beneath them changing. They panicked. They didn't know where to run. Thousands hugged their family closing their eyes and praying this was all a dream. Terror swept the land as an unknown calamity befell them.

Building and bridges began to fall, losing the strength of their foundations. Automobiles sank into the sand. Lakes and ponds began to dry.

Every conscious soul knew they had to run. They had to escape. But there was nowhere to go.

Hell was rising from the depths of the Earth.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

* * *

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When meaning returned to Harry's mind, the first thing he felt was weakness. His body ached and he couldn't sense anything apart from the ache of feeling like there was no magic left in his bones.

He then realised he wasn't breathing and the lack of air was causing more pain, he opened his eyes with a snap and gasped in a sharp intake of breath.

He felt sick and drained. He groaned and rolled on his side to empty the contents of his stomach but nothing came out but spit.

Harry moaned and tried to look ahead but his vision was blurred. He fell back on his back and began to take deep breaths.

One, he tried to count. Two, control over his breathing returned. Three, the pain began to settle into a dull ache. Four, feeling other than pain returned to his skin and he felt the soft surface he was lying upon.

His fingers curled and he felt cool sand slip between the gaps.

For a moment Harry stopped breathing again. _…. Was this? ….._

The world began to sharpen into focus and his eyes recorded an awe inspiring starry pattern of the night sky that took him back to the memory that had been etched in his mind for three years, consuming his dreams every night since then.

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position ignoring his body's scream of protest. He had to see it.

Cold winds helped his focus and his breath was taken away.

"So beautiful," he whispered in wonder.

White sand stretched as far as his eyes could see and sparkled like diamonds under the soft shine of the moonlight. Skeleton remains of a metal city rose tall in the dark sky casting a long shadow on the sand dunes that had overtaken a prosperous world.

Harry smiled a smile of pure joy.

He had returned to the desert.


	35. Part Five - Survival of the Fittest

**_Part Five -_** _ **Survival of the Fittest**_

 **The Desert Rises**

Without magic to sooth his pain. Harry stayed put, slept some more, hovering between the pain the brought him his consciousness and the exhaustion that pulled him into sleep.

When Harry felt his skin burning he woke up again. He yawned and groaned and stretched his legs to loosen his cramped muscles.

He was feeling good. Not top notch but good enough to let a broad grin light up his face as he stood up and basked in the glorious sight of an endless, treacherous desert.

Magic was coming back to him slowly but it wasn't enough for him to use. He could feel its seed slowly sprouting in the void with new feelings and strength.

"I am reborn," Harry whispered.

A gust of wind blew at his back and hot particles of sand struck against skin. His robes were torn, he realised.

He peered into the skeleton city and inspired by the size of the ruins half buried in the sand. He began to walk towards it. It looked probably three kilometres away from him. He was feeling hungry and thirsty and maybe there was something to be found in one of the many metal reinforced structures that had managed to keep some of their original shape and form.

His stomach groaned for sustenance and Harry grimaced. His magic was in no shape to be used right now. He had to survive the old fashioned way for some time.

Walking in soft sinking sand was a lot harder than Harry remembered it being and by the time he had reached the ruins and was within arm length of the first structure with an intact roof reality began to distort all around him.

Harry gasped.

It was the labyrinth.

He quickly tried to touch some part of the building knowing how the magic operated but it was too late, his step forward took to a new location and to his annoyance there was nothing but desert around him.

It seemed he didn't have control over the spell anymore. He was as much a survivor as anyone else in the desert that was slowly revealing all its surprises.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, and he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

And then there was the other.

 _"The decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky. Two paths will lay before him… one leading to salvation … the other… devastation. His decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky…. Salvation …. Devastation …. His decision will…"_

Nothing made sense anymore to Albus Dumbledore. Everything had turned to dust. The eon length perception of the way the world worked had been brutally stripped leaving behind a human race naked and confronting an idea that terrified them to their very core – they were going to die.

Albus stood tall on one of the large dunes in the desert and looked for survivors with the sun at its brightest point in the sky. He looked behind him and his hard eyes softened when he saw the sad faces huddled under his conjured tent, passing along the soup he had made after summoning ingredients from the first ruins he had come across.

There was nothing beyond surviving in a hellish desert that distorted reality for a precious few seconds that many spent hoping they were going to wake up from the nightmare in the warm and soft beds only to find themselves lost again, not knowing where they were, and what was the way out.

Everyone was tied together with a long string that Dumbledore had conjured. It was the only way they could be together after every distortion.

Dumbledore was collecting survivors and helping them gain strength and purpose of finding a way out.

There was no village or town around. It was vast empty space in all directions and Dumbledore realized he was going to have to wait for the next distortion. He hoped it would be a once inhabited place. He was running low on supplies and there was no means to find any unless they ran into another group. He couldn't apparate as well because the desert had no terrain. Its form was constantly changing thereby rendering apparating to a familiar place inert. He couldn't apparate to Hogwarts. He couldn't apparate to any place that had a memorable image in his mind. He didn't know if the entire world was overtaken by the curse or if he was trapped within a limited boundary.

He could not escape.

"Excuse me. Mr Dumbledore sir?"

It was one of the ladies. She was fairly aged, having faded black hair and wrinkles around her brown eyes. She looked defeated and lost.

"Please call me Albus, Patricia."

"How long until the next distortion?" she asked tiredly.

Albus had counted fifteen sunsets so far. And in those days and nights he had experienced seven distortions. Visited three villages. And found twenty-five survivors.

He had realised by the third distortion that the desert didn't alter randomly after a set interval of time. It was an invisible maze they were trapped in that travelled through time and space into an alternate pocket of reality within the framework of its boundaries. He recognized the design of the magic. It was based on the ward he had used to trap Harry within the boundaries of Sirius's cottage.

The boy had used his design to create something even more devastatingly dangerous. A labyrinth existed throughout an endless conjured desert.

The magic was incredible. He had never seen anything like it in all his years. It made the strongest spell he knew seem like childs play and he would have been in awe of what Harry had done if not for the bodies he kept coming across all over the desert. So far he had found and burnt fifty-seven bodies.

The survivors with him insisted on paying their respects to the dead.

"Another kilometre I think," Dumbledore replied with a sigh. "We should move soon. We don't want to be caught walking at night."

Patricia shivered. She wanted to be sheltered under a roof when night came. She was a muggle and the first time she had encountered a vampire was the first night after the calamity – that was what the muggles had begun to call it because that's what it was. They didn't understand it. They met wizards and witches who tried to make them understand but even the witches and wizards didn't understand it. All they understood was something or someone had decided to curse their existence and banish them into a realm where the temperatures soared to above fifty degrees Celsius and dropped into negative when the moon arose. Not to mention the desert tricked their eyes and never let them stick to a path.

During the peak of the tremendous power that Harry had unleashed, everything had become blindingly bright and when the spots in his eyes returned and the powerful magic receded, Dumbledore found himself standing in a village that was half in ruins and looked like a desert storm had overrun it.

He didn't understand what had happened.

The sun was setting bewildered people where making their way to the nearest trees that were still standing but half buried in sand hills.

Dumbledore did what he did best and took charge of the six people who were present in a now abandoned village and saved them from a vampire attack at night. He had lost two that night.

But one bittersweet thing about the whole situation was the final piece of the puzzle that was Harry had finally been revealed to him.

Harry Potter was a sociopath whose magic had warped into nihilism because of his past. What a way for the real Harry Potter to finally show his true self. He rued the fact that all the clues needed lay before him and he had been unable to put them together until the was all over. The second prophecy had come true. Harry had brought about devastation with blinding efficiency.

"Shall we move friends?" he asked with a feeble smile. "It's only a kilometre to the next distortion and if we're lucky we might get to scavenge a town. Maybe even what used to be London."

No one said a word. They just silently began to pack up, cover their faces with dark clothes and began to walk behind Dumbledore.

They had lost the will to live.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was so parched with thirst that by the time he stumbled across what looked like a fortress that was partly crumbled he sighed in relief.

He had gone through two distortions and the enormous power that surged through the desert at that time was beginning to rejuvenate his magical strength. He was nowhere near being able to used runes to summon water and he could feel a constant drain inside him. He had not been able to connect with that magical stream and he had a suspicious he was somehow still connected to the magic that had created the desert.

He had ideas and deductions but everything paled in comparison to the unquenchable thirst.

The sun was setting and he was glad to have found a structure that looked to be quite intimidating if reconstructed in the mind's eye.

Harry stumbled through broken walls and barbed wire and into what looked like the administration building.

The entire structure looked like the makings of a factory. What kind he had no idea.

He almost laughed in relief when he found the deserted pantry and bottled water cartons and stacked shelf's of canned food.

Harry tore open the boxes and attempted to drown himself in water to quench his thirst.

Finally he felt like he could take a breath and process the results of his deal with magic.

He opened one of the cans labelled bacon and scarfed down the entire contents in seconds.

The sun had set. The cold winds began to rise and rattle against the sealed glass windows of the pantry.

Harry just lay there still and quiet. Thinking and waiting. Waiting for his magic to return to useable levels.

Suddenly he heard shouts and the roar of an engine. Harry quickly went to the window and saw a jeep roll over the sand with a strained grind in its voice and there were five men screaming and hooting.

Harry narrowed his eyes and slowly backed away from the window. He quickly picked up a few bottles and cans and stuffed them into his robes and held them carefully.

He was going to watch these people for now. He wanted to see what path they had taken to survive.

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Daphne had found Sirius when sand the ministry began to crumble to dust and the sky began to turn white. Harry's godfather had tried taking her to safety and had run, pulling her along and the next thing they knew they were stumbling in what used to be the streets of Diagon Alley.

By the time the adjusted to the fact that the world had suddenly turned into a freaking desert and their panic subsided they realised they were in what used to be Diagon Alley because of the large dome shaped structure that was called Gringotts.

They weren't the only ones around. There were hundreds of people all around. Thousands even. Muggles and Wizards both.

It was them, an endless desert, dusk, and the stronghold of Goblins the only building around.

It wasn't long before everyone realised that if they wanted food or water, they had to find shelter. And the only form of shelter in sight was Gringotts bank.

Knocking didn't help. Banging the doors that had reappeared in place of the waterfall didn't help. Destructive spells didn't help.

Sirius sensed the growing rage and desperation and wisely led Daphne as far away from the Gringotts as possible.

"What the fuck is going on Sirius?" she shouted over the rising volume of people surrounding the goblin bank. "What in Merlin's name has happened?!" "Why are we in a fucking desert!"

They were running in the opposite direction and it was difficult against the flow of men and women who had got caught in the rise of mass hysteria.

"Let's just find safety first girl!" Sirius shouted back and held on to her hand with a firm grip. If he let go she would fall and be stamped to death.

"Expulso!" Sirius shouted as the crowd began crushing around him and Daphne. People were banished away from their path and they ran as fast as they could in the soft sand. Suddenly the vision distorted and they were running in water. They were in the shores of a sea.

Daphne squealed at the sudden exposure to cold salty water and looked around wildly for the shoreline and hurried out of the sea. Sirius followed and collapsed on the beach.

The sun had set and a half moon was out. Before him lay a sea and behind him a scarce few trees and a rising desert.

Daphne sat beside him and tried to catch her breath. It took her sometime but she managed it in the end and asked Sirius her question again. This time there was an audible tone of fear of the unknown. "What happened Sirius?" she whispered with a shiver as the night winds rose from the sea.

Sirius looked at her with grim eyes. "Harry happened," he said simply and turned away to stare over the sea.

Daphne gaped but didn't further question Sirius. She recognised the look in his eyes. It was defeat. She frowned and let her mind turn, looking for answers.

This was all an illusion. It had to be. Maybe it was one of the Dark Lords mind tricks. He had been famous for them in the first war.

"We need to find Harry," she decided.

Sirius snorted.

"Harry's a monster. If you know what good for you, you'll avoid him and stay away from him if you ever come across him again.

"All this is his doing. I know it. The little fucker is a complete psychopath. His birth itself was a curse. I tried to love him. I really did. But look what it brought me. The death of all my friends and banishment to an obsession of my goddamn godson."

Daphne stared at Sirius wide-eyed.

Sirius dropped his head in his drawn up legs and sighed.

"Harry has been fighting a war ever since he was born," Sirius continued more softly. "I think he just won and no one saw it coming."

There was silence between the pair for something.

"So what do we do now?" Daphne asked in a small voice.

Sirius's eyes hardened. "We survive."


	36. Primal Instincts

**Primal Instincts**

 _We must learn to stand in our darkest hours._

 ** _Time unknown_**

"Let's play a game."

Harry Potter had lost count of the days. He hadn't bothered to keep track after his magic had returned to acceptable levels which took about three days.

In that time, he observed resourceful muggles who figured out the limit they could travel without getting lost in one day and had wisely rationed their food to last as long as possible.

They travelled by jeep everyday with screams and war cries and always brought back those they found wandering in the desert to their stronghold.

And in their stronghold only their rules applied. There were four who were the first inhabitants in the factory after the calamity and they had been quick to adapt to the laws of the desert.

They understood the one rule that governed this new world.

 **There were no rules**

Harry had been pleased to see that the message was understood so quick. Perhaps it was always waiting… the primal instinct to survive… waiting in all humans… waiting to be understood.

When his magic returned, Harry took his time, always hidden, understanding the magic he had dwelled in, understanding the reality that was once a dream.

The reality was so much more beautiful than the dream. Harry was amazed at the complexity of the runes that covered the sky. The runes were gold and white in colour and phased out of shape at a leisure pace. It was like watching thousands of pages being flicked through the thumb and trying to understand the million words that flashed past the curious eyes.

Harry took days and nights, spent sleeping on the roof of the factory, with handy invisibility runes, trying to understand the dynamics that governed this magic. It was a creation of the source but it wasn't the source. The experience he had had when touching the source was unlike the magic that powered the desert.

The magic of the desert was a creation of Magic and his Will that unified for an instant when the knowledge of his mother's love flooded his green.

He still felt it. It made him grin, knowing that she loved him and understanding what it felt like. The green began fading soon after. The necessity of survival brought him back to reality and his red began to brighten slowly until he felt a spark of his bloodlust return.

It wasn't enough that the muggles he was watching were surviving. He wanted them to feel pain. He wanted them to know… they were not in control… he wanted to see them driven to the desperation of surviving and then he would know whether they were worthy or not.

Whether they were worthy of magic.

A full moon night had inspired him to reveal himself.

He walked down the ramp leading to the ground floor lobby and exited the building for the first time since he got there.

There were dozens of fires burning on scavenged wood and boys and girls surrounded them. Some were in the arms of each other, igniting Harry's orange in ways he had begun discovering the day he had killed Tonks. Others were talking softly and laughing as they huddled together and shared a cigarette.

Harry's lips curled into a smile and he slapped his hands, amplifying the clap with the help of the Void.

The sound was like a screech in the ears of the near fifty inhabitants of what they liked to call – Fort of Youth.

Their habit of killing those they deemed too old had not gone unnoticed by Harry.

One of the four leaders jumped to his feet and shouted at Harry, "Oye! Who the fuck are you?"

"He's a kid!" shouted another. "What the fuck did he just do? My ears are fucking ringing."

They all began to stand up and move towards him. Some of them had guns tucked in their pants.

"Did one of the distortions get you here boy?" a kindly young man asked.

They began to attribute the ungodly clap as part of the strangeness of the calamity.

Harry raised his hand.

"Wha! What's going on?! Who are you?!" All of them had been frozen in their places and panicked shouts and demands were being hurled at Harry.

It wasn't enough that they were surviving. It brought him no satisfaction. It was too simple.

"Let's play a game," Harry said, his voice soft like a predatory hiss.

"He's a wizard," whispered one of the new boys in fear.

Another pissed in his pants.

"Let us go now boy!" one of the blonde haired leaders shouted. "Let us go and you can join us!"

Harry raised his other hand and the fires began to rise and spread.

"Now," Harry breathed. "Show me what you'd do when faced against a monster." He let go of the magic binding them and the fires roared into the sky, threatening to engulf them all.

 _Are you sure you want to do this?_

Harry froze. It was the Void. The was his link to the source and the source was now using it.

And yet it felt different. It felt like it was him. Another part of him knocking from within the void instead of his mind.

Of course I do, Harry spoke back. His primal instincts were roaring. Screaming to be let go.

The source was talking to him and Harry understood.

He chose to ignore.

The desert was calling him home.

"Kill him!"

A gunshot rang loud and the running feet stopped to pray.

Harry took a step forward and stepped into the light of the fire, throwing his appearance open to interpretation.

He was wearing dirty black robes, stood maybe at five feet height, his hair was messy and merged with the night.

The fire focused on the mad glow in dark green eyes.

"M-monster," gasped one of the younger boys.

The bullet was spinning in the palm of his hand.

"The game is simple," Harry said with a smile. "I am the monster. You have to defeat me."

The bullet fell with a soft thud on the sand.

"Run," whispered a girl. "Run!" she screamed.

Harry didn't follow them. He just watched them run. The game had only begun.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Third July Nineteen Ninety-Five - Hogwarts**

"Any Luck?"

"We discovered it's a ward of some kind. Professor McGonagall will be making the announcement at Lunch."

"I asked if there was any luck Hermione," Hitomi bit back.

Nobody understood what had happened that fateful evening.

All the schools were gathered together for the final feast, celebrating the winner of the duelling tournament.

The enchanted roof top was basked with the warm glow of the setting sun when suddenly a bolt of lightning cracked through the sky.

"What was that!" Colin Creevey exclaimed. "It came out of nowhere!"

The students dissolved into excited murmurs. It was not often a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky in the advent of summer.

They were back to normal laughing and talking again when a second bolt of lightning screamed through the sky. This one was red in colour and was almost as if the sky was on fire.

A storm was coming. They all felt it.

By nightfall a lightning storm had lit up the dark. By daybreak the storm broke and by breakfast strange happenings were noticed. The sky kept changing colours. As if there was a multi-coloured film swimming through the clouds.

By noon everyone realised magical means of transport were no longer working. The Beauxbaton carriages that took off into the sky disappeared when the air around them distorted for a moment.

The Drumstrang ship could not leave through its magical portal setup between their lake and the Hogwarts lake.

The floo was not working and they were unable to contact the Ministry for help and answers.

The professors who left through the gates to apparate never returned.

They soon realised something dangerous had happened. Imaginations began to run wild with theories and the only real fact they knew was that they were trapped unless they chose to leave the safety of the wards of Hogwarts.

The visiting schools had not been pleased about that.

Tonight the Hogwarts express was due to arrive and no one wanted to take the carriages out of the gates and into Hogsmeade Station.

There had been more volunteers who tried to find out what was going on and they had never returned. Since then all the professors and all the students considered bright dedicating their full time to understanding the strange magic that seemed to have trapped them all.

Discovering that it was a ward of some kind after all this time was simply stating the obvious and Hitomi's glare conveyed the message to Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We discovered its some kind of runic ward," she elaborated. "However we still haven't been able to contact anyone on the outside. Even the owls refuse to leave."

"And what of the purebloods who sing praise of this Dark Lord?" Hitomi asked.

That had been another issue to deal with. Draco Malfoy had led the proclamation that this was the work of the Dark Lord against those in defiance of him and that it was only a matter of time before he marched to the gate.

Hermione's eyes darkened. "They've been dealt with," she said cryptically.

The muggleborn's in the castle had not taken to kindly to the idea that their families were going to be slaughtered and had led a demand for them to the locked up in the dungeons.

Severus Snape was all that stood between the bigot purebloods and the rest of the school.

Tensions ran high and it was now on Snape to control his out of control students and those that supported them.

Dumbledore was gone and Hogwarts was holding on to sanity with a thread.

Hitomi didn't know what to make of the magic that was flowing with the wind. She could feel its intention. It's desire to change. What was the reason behind it? Hitomi knew it was the key to understanding what magical calamity had befallen them.

 _What was the reason?_

That was the question they needed to answer before the change reached a state where it could no longer be held back.

"Are you coming to the hall? We're going to have a meeting. McGonagall said it was important."

Hitomi shook her head. She needed to think and the mages of Britain could not help.

Hermione turned to leave the Gryffindor common room and just before she left through the fat lady portrait Hitomi called her back.

"Hermione," she began. "These runes. Can I see them?"

"Err... sure," Hermione said bemused. Hitomi had never offered to help before. Her school master informed everyone Hitomi was more of practical person. Not a connoisseur of magical theory.

Hitomi looked at Hermione pointedly.

"You mean now? Well… Professor Vector and Babbling are trying to translate them in the Astronomy Tower. You can find them there I suppose. The house elves have been bringing them meals there."

"Thank you Hermione," Hitomi said. She waited for the brunette to exit through the portrait and followed her smoothly. "I can find my way thank you," she said and left Hermione behind.

She cut a regal figure to Hermione as she watched her walk away. "Strange girl," Hermione muttered and headed towards the great hall.

She was met at the entrance by Viktor Krum. The handsome Bulgarian had taken an interest in her and hung around her every chance he got.

Frankly, it made Hermione a bit uncomfortable and secretly excited. A man was showing interest in her. A man desired by half the girls in the school and he had chosen her.

"Hello Her-my-own-nee," he said, his deep voice sending pulses weakness in her knees.

"Hi Viktor," she said brightly. "Any luck finding the books in your ships library?"

He shook his head. "None."

He followed her to the Gryffindor table and sat down with a star struck Ron Weasley.

Everyone had pretty much gathered and McGonagall stood to the podium where Dumbledore was a common sight.

It made his absence felt severely.

"We have all had a hard couple of months," McGonagall began, her voice sharp and compassionate. "I know all of you are missing your families but we just have to hold on until we figure this out. We've discovered there are strange runic wards blanketing the school and the forest and it seems to be changing. It's slowing down so there a possibility it will disappear soon and we can leave without fear.

"In the meantime, we are going to resume classes. We have to keep ourselves busy and remember that Hogwarts will protect us.

"That is all."

She returned to her seat and conversations began.

"Aw man," Blaise moaned. "Why do we have to attend classes?"

"To maintain normalcy," Tracey replied. "Everyone is shit scared or haven't you realised."

"Realised? Realised what?"

Tracey sighed. If Daphne were around she would have pointed out the obvious but now the responsibility lay on her shoulders.

"Things are going to get worse Blaise. That speech was a hold on and don't panic speech."

Blaise laughed. "Relax Tracey. It's probably a problem with the wards. It's been centuries they have held strong and someday they were bound to have issues right? For all we know, the entire ministry and Dumbledore are outside trying to fix it."

Tracey scoffed. "Great fantasy Blaise," she said acidly.

Blaise wrapped his arm around her shoulders and smiled down at her. "There's no use getting scared. Now, a few of us have been planning…"

"Blaise," Tracey interrupted with a hiss. "We've talked about this!"

"We're going to slip out at night," he continued. "Now are you with us or not?"

Tracey bit her lip.

"No," she said. "It's too dangerous."

Blaise remained silent but his face conveyed his disappointment. Many of the children would no longer take the stress of being controlled with fear and regulations. They wanted to break free.

"How many have joined you," she asked.

"Lots of Griffs and Puffs including Hermione," Blaise replied.

Tracey sighed. They were making a big mistake.

 _-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-_

 **Time Unknown – The Desert**

Voldemort was alone. He was quick to adapt to the new rule of the world and contemplate where he had miscalculated.

Who was responsible for the blindness that hid Harry Potter's power from his sight? Was this all a part of the prophecy? Was this the power he knew nothing about? Dumbledore always whispered it was love.

Voldemort glared at the desert surrounding him. The harsh sun burned down on him like never before. The last time he had experienced the feeling of being lost was when the killing curse he cast at Harry Potter clashed with the sacrificial magic used by Lily Potter in her last conscious moment of coherence.

Her soul was deemed sacrifice strong enough to block the curse of death itself.

It had led him to question his existence. Suffer endlessly in a realm filled with hate and loneliness. He clinged to some form of reality through the physical bodies of rats and snakes. He could barely hold on and lost himself in that hateful realm, suffering until he was able summon some strength to hold on to the next creature in the real world.

It was endless torture until the day he managed to hold on to a human. And as turned out, it was a wizard who worked as a professor at Hogwarts.

It was a glimpse of hope.

From that day on, his strength began to return. He was able to possess humans and perceive reality while being in the realm of pain.

His encounter with Dumbledore reignited his dream of total control over every realm of magic.

The dream led him to Lucius Malfoy and from there with shocking ease, he took control of the Ministry of Magic. The first step of his dream. He had been so close to destroying the enemy, the little boy, whose mother defeated him. He was so close to taking down his greatest enemy – Albus Dumbledore before that little boy became a monster who unleashed a power so great that he felt fear. And fear was worse than being trapped in between death and life.

That moment in the courtroom changed everything. His victory had been upturned and he was stranded in the middle of a forsaken desert. He was a Dark Lord without his Knights.

His fingers tightened their grip around his wand and he looked at the blood that was soaking the burning white sands.

It was the first human he had meet in days and his need to torture something had been on the boil since the day of the calamity.

"Harry James Potter," Voldemort hissed in rage. "I will find you and I will kill you."


	37. Liberation

**Liberation**

 **September Nineteen Ninety-Five- Hogwarts**

Tracey had been experiencing a new feeling ever since the blackout. Not just her, every student still in the castle from age eleven to eighteen were slowly but surely turning wild.

Knowing she was trapped in a castle was a unique prison. Everyone began to forget the past. Parents began to become faint memories. The strings created by society to control their minds began to unravel. The teachings of qualified professors paid to _educate_ students began to hold no meaning anymore.

Cedric Diggory led the idea this feeling was either freedom or oppression.

Many chose it to mean freedom and they truly felt free of rules that had governed them since birth.

Those who could not cast off those strings began to suffer and wither. They had mental breakdowns. The infirmary was overflowing with depression and anxiety attacks.

Tracey had chosen freedom and those like her gained something they had thought only people they looked up to possessed. The power to bring sheep to them and create their own herd. They became leaders and Tracey was part of a group that decided to fuck the rules and do what they pleased.

She had become a rebel and it felt liberating in the atmosphere of doom that gloomed on Hogwarts.

The real power however was held by those with information and Hermione Granger had become powerhouse by being the link between all centres in Hogwarts that were researching the ward.

She had started her own research when her mind clashed with all majority of the researchers and was denied of her ideas coming to fruition. Her age factored in their measure of knowledge.

Tracey had been glad she was able to convince Hermione not to follow Blaise's stupid plan. Her efforts paid dividends when she became part of what could only be a new world. It was surreal and insane and she secretly loved it. That was what bonded their group together. They loved what was going on and the freedom they had discovered because of it.

Today they had made a breakthrough. Their combined ridiculous, from a certain perspective, ideas – had given birth to a new perspective.

It had taken a casual comment from the other worldly Luna Lovegood for Hermione to connect the runes to something similar she had once seen Harry Potter scribbling in his diary.

And on his bedside table were a leather bound diary and an ethereal white wand.

Inside the diary, the runes and neat scribbles of words baffled their collective minds. They understood none of it. Apart from the name Harry, neatly written in bold letters, on the first page, in the right top corner, they couldn't make heads or tails of the drawings.

What Hermione did say was the runes bared a strange similarity with the runes drawn by Babbling.

Hermione had lost faith in her trust of professors and from the sudden emptiness was born a girl who was always meant to be a rising star - unstoppable by her peers.

Without Daphne's shadow over her and her reliance on authority figures, Hermione had found something liberating.

She discovered the freedom to broaden her mind.

The top floor of the Astronomy Tower had been transformed into a new dormitory and within it where floating hammocks, pillows on the floor and lots and lots of blankets strewn around.

The balcony had been extended with the help of Professor Flitwick and lounge chairs populated the open space.

Hermione sat in the corner near the entrance and kneeling behind her, peering over her shoulder, into the diary were Hitomi and Luna.

"Have you found anything?" Hitomi asked curiously. Her interest in Harry Potter was growing. His magic had felt strange when she first laid eyes on him and when she had reached out with her own, she had almost been overwhelmed by the weight of a sea of power. Now, the strangeness trapping them, felt a little like him as well. He was definitely involved in the mystery surrounding them.

Hermione snapped the book shut with a sight. "There must be thousands of pages in here," she said. "I remember seeing him make a note about wards and runes but it's going to take ages looking through every page!" she exclaimed. "It's got some kind of spell on it that makes the pages multiply and the book remain light and small. Seems like a combination of the duplication, extension and light weight charms and I have no idea what kind of enchantment was used to do it."

"It was probably the nargles," Luna said vaguely.

Suddenly Susan Bones, who was leaning on the terrace railing, exclaimed.

"Hey look!"

Curious, everyone joined her and their eyes went wide with surprise and excitement.

Someone had walked through the gates. They couldn't make out who it was but the fact that someone had potentially returned to Hogwarts was unprecedented.

Tracey was the first to run out. "Come on," she shouted. "Let's see who it is!"

Everyone expect Hitomi felt excitement. The magic she felt when she saw the figure foretold destruction. Hitomi reached into the pockets of her pants and her fingers wrapped around the hilt of a sword.

"I'm going to need you," she said in her native tongue.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Time unknown**

The heart of the desert was harsh. Harry felt it grow harsher everyday. The day burned against the skin hotter than bearable and the nights forced him underground as not even heating his body worked against the magic in the wind.

The cold nights stripped away all protection and the only way to survive was to hide.

Harry had been wandering for a long time trying to figure his way through the desert. He was looking for an exit. He wanted to go to Hogwarts and collect his wand and diary but the magic of the labyrinth was proving uncooperative.

He could feel its touch on the void, intermingling with his magic and maintaining the grip of the desert around him. If he focused hard enough, he was able to see a way through the labyrinth but he hadn't been able to keep his focus strong for too long. The desert was strong. Stronger than anything he had ever faced. It was a true monster that defeating would make him worthy of magic.

Anyone who could survive in this desert would be considered worthy.

The yellow star rained fire from the sky and Harry decided to make camp until the sun was at least half down near the horizon.

He faced his palm to the sky and the sand began to rise with a hiss, reforming into a hardened hut. He took shelter within and folded his legs and sat. Sweat poured down his neck and he began to feel his body cool down.

A red glow warmed the air and Harry closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath and looked within his soul.

It was a lesson in calm in chaos.

The Void was changing. A howl screamed in the darkness of his Void and he felt his will fighting for dominance against a power that was constantly growing inside him.

He was hungry.

His orange burned for violence. He had always been able to control it before the trial that changed everything. He had always had a handle on his madness with a tight grip refusing to let go.

After the desert, the handle no longer existed. He was facing his own survival instincts for the first time since the murder of his Aunt and Uncle.

It made him wonder if his dream wasn't judging those who were worthy of magic but if he was the one who was worthy? Or was it his desire to feel the freedom of destroying the shackles of control.

His green told him it was the later.

He had no control over the new world and it felt liberating.

His thoughts kept evolving. Striving to determine the reason for his existence. The Desert, however, had a different will. It pressed against him, hindering his way, exciting him and forcing him to descend into desperation.

And in desperation, Harry always found answers.

His dream was Catch 22. What was it that he truly wanted? Was it survival or answers? If the answers came from survival then why were there more questions that seemed greater than the last?

Harry was drowning in a conundrum and its effect on his mind reflected in his desire.

He was feeling an insatiable desire to spill blood and taste pleasure from horror. Deriving a pleasurable thrill from the desperation in the eyes of another was a poison that had begun to eat away inside him since his intimate encounter with Tonks had bled into the Earth.

Harry opened his senses to the magic of the desert and looked.

He craved for human contact; contrary to his cravings before the desert was born. He wanted to know how they were doing. How had they evolved? Could their magic measure up to the well of power he felt within him? Power that had seemed to have trapped him in his own dream?

A primal growl accompanied his exhale of thrill when he felt something human close by.

His eyes snapped open and he grinned.

He would wait patiently until sunset.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **September Nineteen Ninety-Five- Hogwarts**

 **"Settle down!"**

Headmistress McGonagall voice blasted across the great hall as the news spread like wild fire and every one rushed to the great doors with excitement.

Hidden in the shadows behind the high table, Hitomi stared at the doors grimly. She knew this was not going to end well.

"Everyone go to your respective house tables while the teachers find out what's going on," McGonagall said, her voice crisp and sharp.

Mutters of annoyance broke out and Hermione and her friends just stood near the Hufflepuff table silently yet excited themselves.

Mcgonagall, Flitwick and Snape made their way out and the rest of the professors stayed behind to keep order among the students.

Outside, the sky was still broiling with colours and the light was slowly receding from the day.

The three professors had their wands out as a feminine hooded figure came into view along the path up to the castle.

"Who are you?" Snape shouted with command in his voice as soon as the figure was within hearing distance.

There was no reply.

Instead the black robed woman lowered her hood and McGonagall gasped in horror.

"Well lookie what I found!" Bellatrix Black cackled in delight. "It's my dear old profs welcoming me at the gates!

"Oh. Except for you Snappy," she mocked. "You were always my dear puppy."

Severus Snape drew his wand and his face crumbled into an ugly sneer.

"I hate this woman," he growled.

"How did you get here Bellatrix," McGonagall shouted. "Why are you not in Azkaban!"

The light had receded and the dark was upon Hogwarts.

Bellatrix's eerie purple eyes began to glow. Her messy black hair meddled in the dark and she manifested a dangerous and beautiful image into the minds of her opponents.

"I'm here because hell is upon us fool!" she shrieked.

Bellatrix drew her wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The three dived out of the way and a blinding ray of dark poisonous magic shattered against the walls of Hogwarts leaving a smoking black mark.

Bellatrix laughed and it sent an unpleasant shiver up the professors' spines.

"Get ready Minerva," Flitwick said as he drew his wand with the grace of a champion duelist. "Our worst fears have come true. Lord Voldemort has won."

"My Lord won?" Bellatrix scoffed as she drew her elbow back with her wand pointed at Flitwick's heart. "Harry Potter won you silly twats!"

Suddenly Bellatrix had to raise a shield in alarm as a blur rushed at her and a sword cut through empty space as the witch ducked.

Hitomi slowed down and turned around quickly with her katana pointing Bellatrix between the eyes.

"Bellatrix Black," she said. Her voice was cold and empty of emotion.

Bellatrix had turned uncharacteristically serious. She didn't even bother to worry as she turned her back to the professors and focused her attention on the strange girl from Mahoukotoro school of Magic.

"Well well well," Bellatrix said with a grin. "I recognize that sword. It's the one I came after on your volcanic mountain isn't it?" Bellatrix licked her lips. "Never thought I'd get a chance to grab it again!"

Hitomi raised her sword in the sky and purple energy crackled along its edges and revenge burned within her eyes.

The professors and the faces glued to the windows facing the grounds were all stunned.

"What is she?" gasps Hermione.

One of the Mahoukotoro students named, Hachi, turned towards Hermione with a smug smile.

"Samurai," he said, his voice laced with pride.


	38. First Contact

**First Contact**

 **Time Unknown**

A predator stalked through endless dunes of sand and his shadow silently crawled behind him as he moved towards the prey.

Harry moved at a steady pace towards the source of life he was sensing. His feet sank into the sand and it took more effort to lift his feet as he got closer.

The desert was not making this easy.

He felt the distortion wrap around him in an attempt to divert him from his path but his will was strong. Harry saw through the colours of the labyrinth and kept his focus on the figure resting against one of the few withering trees still standing in the desert.

Harry slowed his pace and observed a frantic figure digging at the heel of the tree. He crouched and moved quietly.

No wind blew tonight. Harry had ensured it by fighting with the will of the desert.

His desire for human contact and finally pulled him away from the source and get angry with it. The moment he had made the intention of finding the life he sensed the desert had turned against him and blown a sand storm his way.

Harry snapped.

He had screamed in frustration and poured all his magic into an unstable mix of thoughts who's cores had transformed into anger against the source.

"Enough!" Harry screamed.

The magic driving the sand storm was ripped to shreds and the desert fell silent... surprised by his anger toward it.

"I am the one in control here. ME!"

His voice carried in the silence and echoed faintly all over the desert.

Harry took a few deep breaths and then fell to his knees as a wave of tiredness swept up his body. But the distinct feel of resistance against his will was gone. The air was not subzero anymore. He had roused the void and fought the desert back.

Anger and rage had always been the true source of his boundless power.

Now that he had pulled together his magic and mind, the thrill of overpowering a magical human rekindled the dream he had for the desert.

He was struggling to hold on to reason and sense. The abyss of madness grew deeper every second the magic of the desert pushed against his.

He was struggling to survive and it made him feel alive.

His dream had come true and the reality of it felt nothing like the fantasy.

But now. With a scream in his mind that cried for blood. And magic in his body that fought to be primal. He walked into sighting distance of the figure huddled under a tree that was dried and shrivelled.

As he got closer the figure seemed to sense his approach and stood up with alarm.

"Who are you!"

It was a woman.

The moon was in its first phase. Faint light brought colour to five feet around them.

The woman saw a small figure walking toward her silently and her first assumption was it was a small child.

Then he came into view and she gasped.

Harry grinned. The prey had a beautiful face. It was Rita Skeeter.

H-harry? Harry Potter!?"

Rita's voice was weak and full of disbelief.

Harry was in no mood to play.

He raised his arm and Rita rose in the air.

"Wha-a? What are you doing?!" she shrieked.

A cold force began to press around her neck.

Her eyes bulged with the lack of air and their dark look of anger in his eyes mixed with the strange grin on his lips sent her into panic mode.

"Please!" she choked. "I… I … no…"

Harry saw her blue acting up. She knew something. Something that was of use to him. He let her go and she crumpled onto the sand gasping for air.

"Speak." Harry whispered. His voice carried softly in the silence.

Rita was still wearing her acid green robes from the day the world was destroyed. Her carefully manicured hair was cut to shreds and the condition of her face was gaunt and scarred.

When the world had turned upside down, revealing the roots of the horror they had built above, Rita knew she was in hell.

This was the punishment she had feared and covered up under layers of wealth and pleasure won by nefarious means.

Her home was gone. Money gone. Comforts gone. She was alone. Inspired none. Forgotten.

Her secret nightmare had come true and now she was facing the harbinger of it all.

He was terrifying.

"I… I know it was you," she whimpered. "You did this." Her mind was in tatters but with the will to survive only one thought stood out among the terror of confusion. _How could she use this in her favour?_

Harry was unimpressed. "That's disappointing," he said. "You seem to be struggling to manipulate me."

Rita gasped and shook her head frantically. "No! Never. Why would you even-?"

Harry growled and curled his fingers, pulling at the threads of magic to control Rita.

"You're lost!" she shrieked.

Harry stopped. "I am not lost," he snapped. Her words struck deep inside his mind. The truth of the statement stung his ego. He had never felt a slight to it and it was the first time a true statement had served to piss him off in under a second.

Rita saw an opportunity and her mind grasped at ideas. "You wouldn't have waited so long to kill me," she said quickly. "After what I wrote about you, killing me must have been on your mind!" She laughed manically. "You're not the first I've met in this hell who wants to kill me!" Confidence was returned to her as she saw a scowl grow deeper down his forehead. "Which means you're lost too! Just as I am!"

She was grasping at straws but she could feel some of them taking root in his mind.

"Which means I have knowledge about this hell that you might want!"

Harry calmed himself and smiled.

"I remember you," he said instead. "I remember seeing you and watching your magic twist with the desire to manipulate and destroy."

Rita felt her control over her body disappear and her mind began to panic with the sudden loss of neural connections.

She had control over her eyes and they moved wildly from side to side as her sight turned up towards him looking down on her with cold green eyes faintly lit by the moon and stars.

"I see it now as well. Doing its best to cling on to life. But Rita. Its not good enough."

Rita felt sensation to her face return and she cried out, "I've met people! Derrick! Muggles! Black! Aren't you interested? Don't you want to know where they are?!"

Harry remained stoic.

"I came across a wizard settlement! Around one of the oasis!"

Harry frowned. "Oasis?"

"Yes! Big Oasis's where people have settled!" Her expression turned defeated. "They left me to die."

There were oasis's in the desert? This was news to Harry. He summoned water through the source when he needed and had not yet come across a large collection of water. Even solid sustenance was hard to come by. Once in a while he came across abandoned homes and small villages where he stocked up on supplies. There were a few encounters with wild hippogriff's and griffins who seemed to have escaped from the captivity of the department of control and regulation of magical creatures.

"Where?"

"I… I don't know," she said helplessly. "I… I … the desert! It keeps changing. One minute its sunrise, the next its sunset, I lost direction again."

Another thing that stood out. Day and night was not a constant for Rita.

Harry's mind began to find familiar territory as it began to spin with thoughts and analysis. A strange bubble of excitement linked to the prospect of discovery began to grow inside him. Rita had encountered Oasis's in the desert. Day and night was variable. She was being rejected by people; cast away. Rita was experiencing the desert differently. Was the magic tailored to put her through her own vision of a harsh environment? Was the source making him and only him experience the harshness of a true desert? Were they all trapped in their own hells?

"And there's news too!" Rita continued. "Some of the settlements were talking you too. That you're a demon. The monster who destroyed the world!"

Harry smiled. At least one thing was going right.

"No one understands it but the rational thought is that you stopped the Dark Lord again."

"Who?"

Rita gaped. The more she talked, the more her confidence returned and the hope she would escape this encounter alive grew. But Harry Potter not knowing who the Dark Lord is boggled her mind.

"You know who," she said but Harry still remained blank. "The man who killed your parents!"

After being alone for so long Harry was discovering a need to talk. Even though Rita was blabbering, her voice was strangely calming him down. Contact with a human soul was pulling him out of a hole he hadn't even realised he had fallen into. He could see a line between sanity and insanity. He could see he was on the far side of insanity and wanting to reach towards sanity.

He stepped back from Rita and the suppressing magic that turned the air heavy and hot disappeared with a cool breeze.

Rita scrambled away from him and quickly stood up poised to run if the need came.

"What is happening to me?" he whispered through clenched teeth. His senses were not making clear sense. He was confused. He didn't know what next to do.

Rita didn't quite hear him. "W-what?"

Rita had been right. He was lost. He had lost purpose. No goal. His dream of creating the desert had been fulfilled. Instead of feeling accomplishment he was empty and chaotic. Instead, his world had fallen apart and now he was trying to rediscover himself. Trying to find his identity.

The Void roared in anger and Harry growled as his green pulsed and a rush of strange emotions began to pull him down. Making him feel emotions like sympathy and empathy.

"Are you okay?" Rita asked cautiously. "Have you met anyone since… you know… the trial." Rita wanted to know what happened that day. Did she dare quiz him? Insanity still danced in his eyes but she also saw conflict.

The man who killed his parents: Voldemort. He remembered now. Dumbledore had been pushing for him to direct his anger at the Dark Lord.

Harry giggled.

The resistance he had been facing from the desert was gone. He had found a renewed sense of purpose. He almost felt like his mind was being rebuilt.

"H-harry?" That smile was creepy. Rita was afraid for her life. Clearly the boy was beyond unstable. "I think I can be of use to you," she said hesitantly. "I can spread word about your powers. I can ensure your name is sung with whatever tone you desire."

Harry remained silent but his eyes bored into hers with intense curiosity. His green was acting up. It wanted to be heard. It's soothing nature made Harry want to listen but he crushed it down and his eyes grew cold. The green had caused nothing but pain.

"Harry?"

"How do I find Voldemort?"

Rita's face fell and she cast her eyes down. "I don't know. No one has heard anything from him."

Rita felt dangerous magic pulse around her. Evaluating and judging.

"Settlement's will be where you'll get news! You just have to find a settlement! I'm sure with your power and wisdom you'd be able to find it. After all, you're the god who created the desert!"

The anger that Harry was keeping sedated woke with razor focus and Rita's head parted her body with a look of hope to survive.

"I am not a god," Harry growled as he watched the head roll on the sand. Blood sprayed with a soft hiss and the body fell with a soft thud. Her blood glowed against the night's light for an instance before disappearing in the sand.

He was at war with the desert. He was not it's god. He was not in control. The desert had taught him that lesson well.


	39. Ashes of Hell

**Ashes of Hell**

"Evolution. That's what it's always been about."

Harry secured the post carved out of the dead tree and summoned ropes to tie up Rita Skeeter's blood soaked body to it.

"Magic demanded it happen," he murmured.

Harry raised a finger and pointed it at the head at his feet and silently the word unworthy were carved into her forehead.

"I was never in control. I was just the perfect vessel."

His dreams in the past were plagued with a false utopia that he thought was the desert. The desert however was just the tipping point. The trigger to the start of a greater revolution whose soul lay among the illusion of control and whose quest was to gain control.

"The truth is I was born in a world of decay. Magic was dying and its evolution in order to survive was inevitable."

His mind had been a perfect dimension of catch-22. Wanting to find control and wanting to loose control was his pattern. Looking for an answer where there was no answer was his personal hell that had succeeded in consuming him, taking his conscious to the darkest corners of hell until eventually, he evolved.

Harry sighed and lifted her head with a fistful of hair. He raised it to eye level and almost felt sad at the sight of hope still alive in her dead eyes.

It also brought him happiness. Killing her had brought him closer to a sense of sanity. It was almost like rediscovering the drug to his recover from his madness.

Now he just wondered where to place the head. Irrational Murder had brought out his artistic side and he wanted Rita's body to make an impression if anyone ever found it.

After a few moments of contemplation, he decided on leaving it on a pike beside her body. He summoned the void and with razor focus, crafted a six-foot-high pike from the remains of the tree and banished the head into the sharp end on top.

It slammed with a crunch and a squelch.

The night was still dark and yet all Harry could see was light. A path heading towards a destination with evolution as the source of illumination. He had hit rock bottom and found enlightenment.

Rita of all people had shown him an answer. It's what made her death so sweet.

Harry stared at the giant pillars of magic that twisted the reality of the desert expressed in the form of a labyrinth.

He summoned the void and reached out to the pillars with a will stronger than he had ever felt and vision clear as the future.

Reality and fantasy warped as Harry forced his way towards the exit with greater power than ever until the desert distorted and relocated Harry as he took one step ahead.

Rita faded into nothing and Harry stepped into the village of Hogsmeade.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **January Nineteen Ninety-Six – United Nations Headquarters, New York, NY 10017, USA**

The atmosphere was one with tension and pending doom.

The ICW and UN - Security Councils were for the first time in history been forced to sit and face a crisis together.

Out of the fifteen members one could no longer be considered as a power anymore. Their country had to be deleted from present tense and maps had to be redrawn.

The United Kingdoms was now considered in contention for the prize of the greatest mystery right up there with the disappearance of Atlantis.

The main concern in the cool, pleasantly lit, high roof room was the unravelling of world economy. People were losing their money. Factories were being shut down and chaos had taken the streets of the world.

One of the wheels of economic control had been smashed to pieces and the world leaders were clueless how to deal with the wreckage.

Hence today's gathering.

"Let me start with saying how deeply shocked we are at this calamity that has befallen your nation Your Majesty."

Bill Clinton's steely yet remorseful gaze swept across the room and rested on the majestically dressed Queen. Behind her, stood Charlie Weasley, one of the few survivors that belonged to Magical Britain.

Soon after the calamity, Germany had served as the rallying point for magical residents who were in other parts of the world and they gathered, as did the Queen, who had touring in South Africa at the time.

The Security Council had been called after a lighting storm in the Atlantic Ocean had caused an entire aircraft carrier disappear with all hands on-board.

Radio contact had remained with odd panicked reports of being trapped in a desert screamed over the coms in the Pentagon before all contact was lost.

The Queen didn't smile or acknowledge his words. She instead raised a finger and beckoned Charlie forward.

Charlie sighed. He had been briefed on what exactly to say. "We believe Britain is trapped in a magical field and we need your help to break the spell."

Boris Yeltsin coughed politely. The agenda today was not hunting for hope where there was none to be found. It was stabilizing the world.

The Queen scowled at him. "Breaking the spell should be our priority then."

"Forgive my interruption," interjected Jacques Chirac. The French president was sweating. There was panic and chaos in his streets and more unemployed people than ever before. A violent non directional revolution was being forced upon them. "I think our first priority should be electing a new permanent member capable of filling the void left by the UK."

"I agree," said Helmut Kohl darkly. "We need money. The economy needs to be stabilized and bringing a new country to the veto council is exactly what we need. A country that can serve as a resource pool with the potential to become an economic powerhouse with the right models of investments."

"We might need more than one new member then," Hosni Mubarak said quickly. This was turning out to be quite the opportunity. He glanced apologetically at the British contingent. "Filling the void of Great Britain will be quite difficult after all."

"I don't believe this," exploded Queen Elizabeth. "Am I really seeing such heartlessness in the wake of such a tragedy?!"

Her voice rang powerfully through the room. Old and frail it was but there was still power and command in it.

Boris laughed. "You don't have any power anymore madam," he said coldly. "You're here only as a courtesy. Your country has been wiped off the map. It doesn't exist anymore. Instead what we have is uncontrolled inflation. An economic freedom movement. Communist parties who are gaining widespread power!"

He slammed his fists on the table and glared across the room at tense faces.

"Military rule must be declared," Li Peng said calmly. "The NATO must be deployed and we are ready to deploy Chinese military all over the world to help with stabilize this crisis."

Bill scoffed. "Enough of this bullshit," he said icily. "What we need to be doing is stopping this…" He looked like it made him ill to say what he had to say next. "We have to stop this spell from spreading," he spit out.

"A US aircraft carrier disappeared far from the epicentre of this disaster. Whatever destroyed Britain is spreading. The weather is being affected and god only knows what's going to happen next. Our satellites see only an impenetrable storm over the UK and it looks like its spreading!

"What we need to be doing is to consider the possibility that this could be the end of the world and based on that assumption, decide what our next move has to be."

The president of Chile was the only magical president. The rest had representatives from their ministries of magic.

He stood up and called attention to his words. "We need to prepare a statement," said Eduardo Frei Ruiz-Tagle.

"What kind of statement?" asked Carlos Roberto Reina.

"About the existence of magic and the truth about what has happened in Britain."

"Are you crazy!" shouted Helmut. "That will create more chaos! There will be witch hunts! Does the magical world really want that?!"

Charlie tuned it all out. He didn't even want to be here. He wanted to head straight into the storm to look for his family but the Dragon crisis made him stay out. Whatever kind of magic had run wild in Britain, it had also begun to effect magical creatures all over the world.

The Dragons had grown wild and stronger than ever and broken free. All the dragon handlers over the world were in the greatest hunt of their lives. They had to hunt down and kill the magnificent beasts before they did any more damage than they had already down. Towns and cities had been burned to the ground.

Governments were working over time to cover up the destruction left in the wake of the appearance of herds of magical creatures.

And Charlie had an idea who was responsible for this descent of chaos. He blamed Dumbledore. If the man had been like every other common wizard and considered divination a waste of time, maybe this catastrophe would have never happened.

His mind strayed to the quiet and curious young boy who had strayed into his path one year ago. He had seen so much potential in him and it was all directed towards something unknown.

All he could think was the awesome force of magic that was slowly spreading out from what used to be home and hearing all these world leaders talk about money made him want to tear his hair out.

Their voices sounded like drowning men screaming for help and all they could find were other drowning men.

Suddenly a man in a suit and dark glasses walked in from the emergency exit and headed straight to Bill Clinton and whispered something in his ear.

Bill stood up. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, his voice calm but tense. "The lighting storm has reached over Ireland and reports are coming in that people are disappearing."

Great. Thought Charlie sarcastically. Let the apocalypse grow bigger.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Time Unknown**

Albus Dumbledore had stopped counting after one hundred and fifty-five.

That many people had died around him after the calamity and since he had stopped counting many more had continued to die around him no matter how hard he tried to save them.

Losing people he cared about. He was living in his personal hell.

Dumbledore was losing his mind. He was losing hope and what was emerging terrified him. He was remembering Grindelwald and the ideals they dreamed to change the world with. He found himself agreeing with thoughts he had sworn never to agree with.

"Is this for the greater good?" he anguished.

He had failed to such an extent that he had actually become witness to the end of the world. The desert remains teased him with hope and then took it away with brutal humour. He was always the last man surviving.

He wanted to give up. He wanted to leave the people he found to their inevitable doom instead of trying to save them. But he always ended up trying and then losing. It was either the cold, or the heat, or a sand storm and even quick sand that took away his companions. Sometimes they were besieged by cannibalistic survivors and was forced either to kill the mad men and women or hear his companions scream.

He was trapped in a nightmare that was playing on repeat.

On this day, he had come across a grisly sight that itched his bile.

He had found the decaying body of what was still clearly Rita Skeeter and craved into the bones of her melting forehead was the word, Unworthy.

Dumbledore knew exactly who had done this and he had to fight his tears of failure and fury at the insanity of Harry trembled in his veins.

"I have to end this," Dumbledore whispered.

The sun burned down on him and the wind lashed particles of hot sand against his skin.

He wanted to bury the body out of respect, but something had snapped inside him. Underneath his thick skin of benevolence, the desire to feel his power explode at something tore free.

"I have to kill him," he said in a haunted voice.

Dumbledore gripped his wand and recast the healing spell over his body.

The burns and bruises melted away as he walked against the wind with one firm thought.

He had to find Harry Potter.

He calculated the steps needed for the distortion to hit and took measured steps.

The wind speed picked up as he got closer but he persisted and kept moving forward instead of stopping for shelter.

The distortion hit and the day turned night and Dumbledore found himself under a dimly lit warm sky facing a massive aircraft carrier with the words USS Michigan printing in bold black on the side.

"Where am I now?" hissed a cold voice just a few feet away from him.

Dumbledore's turned his head sharply and his eyes widened.

Standing beside him was a man he hadn't contemplated running into. His face looked more human but the features were unmistakeable.

Lord Voldemort realised someone was beside him as well and as he recognized the old man staring at him with wide, surprised eyes, he grinned with sadistic joy.

Gunfire interrupted their reunion and a masculine voice shouted in the dark. "Who goes there!"

Dumbledore and Voldemort had jumped away at the sound and drawn their wands at each other.

Dumbledore's mind spun with all sorts of thoughts as he watched the thrill of murder awaken in Voldemort's eyes. They were still the same since the first time he laid eyes on young Tom Riddle. Those eyes had haunted him when he laid eyes on eleven year old Harry Potter and now he was looking at them again.

Those blue eyes were thinking about slaughtering the muggles in the ship and Dumbledore was all that stood between them and Voldemort.

He had a choice. Watch the muggles scream or see their lives slip between his attempts to save them.

The moment passed and Dumbledore realised he never had a choice to begin with. He was always going to try to save lives. It was who he was.

"Bombarda!" he thundered and let his magic rip towards Voldemort.

Voldemort apparated and reappeared behind Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Dumbledore's eyes went wide and then his body disintegrated and rose a few feet away from under the sand.

A golden shield surrounded him and he stood at guard as he watched Voldemort do the same.

Gunfire splattered around them again and bullets bounced off their shields.

"I asked who is there! Identify yourself!"

"It's good to see you Professor," Voldemort said with unnerving calm. His voice had changed too. He sounded human.

"Tom," Dumbledore returned stiffly.

This was not the fight he wanted but it was the one he needed.


	40. The Truth

**The Truth**

 **Time Unknown - Hogsmeade**

Harry's first order of action was getting his wand and notebook. He needed possession to anchor his mind to sanity.

The beautiful walk up to Hogwarts got Harry in a pensive and thoughtful mood.

Humans were hollow without possessions, he thought. They greedily stockpiled material wealth around them in order to avoid the open truth that human beings didn't have a soul. We are only ever looking for it and die in the attempt to find it. A rare few accept that fact and the result of that was what the deluded called enlightened beings.

 _Am I enlightened?_

The change of scenery from hot, dry and yellow, to – cold, snowy and green felt was drastic enough to keep him spell bound with wonder for a few minutes before a small content smile lit his face and he began his trek to the castle.

Harry felt needing possessions was instrumental in holding on to sanity. He wanted to hold on to sanity and attaching the green to material objects felt like the right thing to do.

He felt his understanding of the soul disintegrate and reform into something that felt more Human. He was thinking he had a soul when he knew that was not true. He was a monster without a soul. He was already deluding himself into defining his self. Defining what his soul was.

 _I feel human._

The sentiment had been growing stronger since his outburst at the source. Rita brought him closer and the escape from the desert pushed him over the line of sanity. At least he felt like it was sanity. He was able to distinguish between his state of mind during the descent in the desert and his state of mind at present.

He missed the desert already.

The state of mind of being a survivor was simple and elegant. Truly experiencing it made Harry swell with happiness. But now he felt like it was time to move on. It was time to understand what magic needed to evolve into and what was his role in the change of era.

Harry pulled the Void closer around him and warmed his body.

The wind had picked up pace and the snow was falling faster. Leaves rustled in their groves and bats flapped around in the dark, looking for sustenance.

Harry frowned. _Bats in winter?_

He put the growing curiosity at the back of his mind when he finally reached the gates of Hogwarts.

The big iron doors were bent and broken outwards.

Something had been thrown out instead of breaking in.

Harry's survival instincts kicked in and he kept the Void ready for a fight.

The sun had broken free of the night and brightened his path towards the castle. A couple of minutes over the cobblestone path later, the Quidditch hoops came into view and after the last bend in the path, the black lake and Hogwarts came into sight.

His eyes widened at the condition of the grounds outside the castle. There were dozens of blackened holes and broken trees littered all around. He looked closer and realised there were holes in the walls of the castle as well.

In fact, one of the towers looked like it was recently repaired. It's colour of magic looked lighter than the other towers.

He looked up at the now blue sky and saw magic spreading across in the form of runes.

Harry frowned. He couldn't make them out. They were changing form chaotically but he recognised them as similar to the runic structures he had created in his quest to create the desert and her labyrinth. The twist however, was that there was no desert and no labyrinth.

 _Why?_

As always, something happened to interrupt his running thoughts.

The great doors of Hogwarts opened suddenly and five figures walk out with their wands clenched firm in their fists.

Nostalgia greeted Harry and he couldn't help but smile.

He continued walking towards the doors, unperturbed by the wands pointed at him.

"Professor Snape," he said with a polite nod. "How nice to see you again."

"Harry?!" Professor Flitwick squeaked in shock. It was difficult to see past the faded and torn robes, long hair, gaunt face and dirt caked skin. "Harry Potter?!"

Harry's eyes slid from Professor Vector to Professor McGonagall to the out of place Mahoukotoro student he recognized as the chosen Champion in the Duelling tournament.

"Hitomi," he said, pulling out his memory of her magic.

He looked into her mysterious purple eyes for a moment, trying to gain a read of her but he couldn't. He smiled and observed the other professors.

McGonagall's missing arm was noticeable and the general dishevelled appearance of the rest was unmistakable.

"How did you get here Potter?" Snape asked. He was the only one who looked calm and calculating. The rest of the professors looked shocked and Hitomi was just blank.

Harry was feeling playful. It was an odd feeling but he was liking it.

"I walked."

Snape scowled.

McGonagall sighed exasperatedly. "Mr Potter. While it's wonderful to see you again we must know where you came from! It's almost been one year!"

 _Has it really been that long?_

"Feels like its been lesser."

A flock of birds suddenly rose out of a tree and all wands pointed upwards in alarm.

They were all on the edge. Harry's eyes flickered to the hand Hitomi had on the hilt of a curved blade hanging on the side of her waist.

"Where did you come from Potter!" Snape snapped.

They didn't know anything. Harry realised. They were isolated which meant his curse had a reach greater than he had expected.

The thought pleased him and he decided to be vaguely truthful. He had never been keen on lying.

"I don't know," he replied. "All I know is that I survived."

"Survived what?" Hitomi asked loudly. There was suspicion in her voice.

Harry sighed and shrugged. "Whatever happened at the trial."

He was feeling too many emotions. He had always run away from them in the past and he had created the desert to keep them away forever.

Now he found himself analysing them. Trying to understand them.

The first emotion he was trying to decipher was relief.

He felt relief that he was outside the desert. He missed it. The return of emotion annoyed him. But he didn't feeling like burying them anymore. He was open to interpreting them and the idea that he was, was bemusing.

Among all the thoughts and emotions, one thing was clear. Harry welcomed the change. He wasn't supressing them anymore. He felt strange and different.

"What happened Harry? Please tell us!" McGonagall looked fearful and desperate.

Harry realised they had heard some news and wanted his confirmation or denial of it. It probably has something to do with the clear marks of battle, he thought.

Suddenly he felt tired. He felt like all those days of harsh survival catching up to him and his legs trembled.

He fell to his knees with a gasp and McGonagall's question ringed in his mind. What did happen? What has happening to him?

Watching him collapse broke the tension of suspicion and McGonagall and Vector ran towards him to help. Flitwick hurrying behind them except for Snape and Hitomi who did not move a muscle.

 _I want to sleep._

The concerned look of McGonagall swam in front of his eyes before he welcomed the loss of consciousness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

* * *

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry knew he was dreaming. He tried to see it but all he saw was blood. His hands, shaking and bathed in blood.

He didn't understand it and neither did he fear it.

 _Why was there so much blood?_

"Are you awake Mr Potter?"

Harry's eyes snapped open.

Light shone in and he immediately rose his arm to block out the light with a groan. He had to blink rapidly to adjust to the light and slowly a high ceiling and a plump woman came into view.

The light was from a candle she was moving across his face.

He tracked the tiny flame with his eyes and suddenly they were removed with a tut of acceptance.

"Wha-?"

He began to cough. His throat was too dry.

Immediately a glass of water was brought in front of his face and he grabbed the glass and drank.

"Slowly!" chided the woman.

The feel of cool water swishing down his throat felt like an elixir to life.

He gasped with relief and felt the room sharpen into focus.

"This…" he muttered. "This is Hogwarts?" Harry recognised the woman as well. It was Nurse Pomfrey.

"At least you're lucid," she muttered. "Don't move too much. Your body's not in good shape."

She was right. His body felt tired but his felt the void strong. He tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts.

To his right, he saw something turn green and he heard the nurse say, "He's awake."

It was the floo. The fire turned back to dull yellow and Pomfrey walked back to him with a kind smile.

"The headmistress will be here soon. They have a lot of questions."

"They?" Harry asked.

Pomfrey snorted. "The leaders of Hogwarts," she laughed.

Harry could let she was being sarcastic. Nurse Pomfrey was being sarcastic? Was he still asleep?

He was feeling too confused. "Wasn't I in the desert?" he whispered.

Pomfrey looked at him sharply. "What?"

Harry shook his head and tried to get off the bed.

Pomfrey tried to push him back down but he slapped her hands away and slid of the bed.

Blood rushed to his head and he felt light headed for a moment before he felt the nurse hold him around his waist and help him to his feet.

"I'm not giving you any painkillers if you fall," she warned.

Yes. I was in the desert. I was surviving. I found Rita and then…., Harry's line of thought stopped.

"I changed," he whispered in wonder.

Harry looked at himself and focused on his colours. To his shock, he saw his green pulsing with greater colour than before, sending signals through his other cores, causing stirrings of strange emotion in his heart.

 _What am I feeling?_

What made it stranger was that he didn't want it to stop. He wanted to understand it. He felt like knowing what it was would help him somehow but he didn't understand.

"Are you alright Harry?" Pomfrey asked gently.

He was still standing and taking support of the bed headboard.

"Yes," Harry said shortly.

The door opened at that moment and in walked McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout who looked solemn. They conjured chairs and took seat at the foot of the bed.

Harry sighed and sat back down. There was always the shred of annoyance lining his new found clarity in the forefront of his mind. The familiar spike of anger lashed out but for the first time in a long time, he was able to calm it down and face down his interviewers with an arrogance that felt good to express.

"Harry," Flitwick began gently. "We need to ask you a few questions. Are you okay enough to answer?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Ever since the day of the trial. Hogwarts has been cut off from all communication with the outside world and anyone who leaves does not return. Do you know why?"

Harry stared them down with disdain growing in his eyes. "So you all have been locked in here and have been helpless? How pathetic."

"Answer the question Harry," Sprout scolded.

Harry leaned back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. He grinned and grinned wider when he saw Snape's expression turn sour and McGonagall's turn shocked with outrage.

"Potter!" he snapped.

"There is no one to contact," he laughed. "My curse has overrun this land and I must say the result was spectacular."

The looks on their faces confirmed what Harry had suspected. Their ashen faces told him they knew he was responsible.

"I don't know how far the magic has spread but what used to be London or Britain is now a wonderful desert where only one rule applies." Harry leaned forward and his eyes glinted with the remains of madness that had evolved into intelligence with a blank slate. "You have to survive."

The Professors stared at him with jaws unhinged.

"What? What are you saying Harry!" Sprout burst. "Desert? What are you talking about?"

"Tell me professors. Why haven't any of you left the castle to see what's out there? What do you fear?"

Harry saw all their reds flare with fear. The fear of death.

He smiled. At the back of his mind, he realised he was talking more than he had ever done before and for a reason not yet understood, he felt like talking some more.

"I grew sick of people trying to control my fate so I took control away from them all."

Harry's eyes grew dark and suddenly there was an immense power crushing against the professors and the nurse.

Harry had summoned the Void and was preparing to subdue them when suddenly, he felt the Void bounce back and hurt him instead!

His eyes widened in shock and pain as he saw blue and red magic form a strange cage around him. He looked around sharply looking for the source of this runic cage when he saw a familiar face appear from under an invisibility cloak.

It was Hitomi and she was using his invisibility cloak.

With Harry's recent desire for belongings, seeing his cloak being used as a tool against him igniting his rage and cold rationality.

"You," he growled.

Hitomi grinned. "Got you."

Harry quickly read the magic of the cage and came to understand that it was a unique design which was strengthened proportional to the effort put into escaping it. The rune structures were brilliant.

Harry realised it was going to take him time to break through them.

The entrance door to the hospital wing opened and in walked his classmates who again, stirred that feeling of nostaligia in him. However he was too pissed off at the moment to reveal and understand those emotions driving the feelings.

Harry scowled at them.

Hermione laughed. "Now isn't that a familiar face," she joked.

Tracey wasn't smiling. She had only one question on her mind and she ignored the silent looks the professors were giving them, indicating to stay quiet and let them ask the questions.

"Where is Daphne?" she demanded to know.

Harry's mind flashed to a spunky girl who had managed to penetrate his vision. His green pulsed and Harry's breath shuddered with confusion.

He looked into Tracey's eyes and answered brutally. "She's probably dead."


	41. The Battle

**The Battle**

Out of Harry's hearing range, in the great hall, the inhabitants of Hogwarts had gathered to hear what the headmistress had to say.

Harry Potter's return had already begun to generate an excited buzz and everyone wanted to know what he had to say. Was it good news or bad?

There were thirty souls left in the castle. The rest had chosen to leave and had never returned.

Hermione, Tracey, Hitomi and Cedric, perched in the scenic spot that was the astronomy tower, were forming their own ideas and thoughts around the appearance of Harry.

"I had just about begun to get used the idea of living forever in Hogwarts," lamented Tracey with an amused sigh. Their group of friends had become detached from worry and paranoia behind the idea of being stuck at Hogwarts forever that infected the rest of the students and professors.

They were running wild and considered no one above them. Not even God.

Magic had become strong in Hogwarts and the power that seeped into them granted them the aura of invincibility.

Bellatrix Black's single handed assault had almost changed that and now Harry's reappearance was pulling at the seams of the delusion they had created for themselves.

Hitomi held centre stage. She was wearing her red school robes, tantalizingly split on both sides, and her dark hair was no longer neatly in a pony. It was left loose, long and combed with disinterest.

"The cage will not hold him for long," she said solemnly. Hitomi had gained utmost respect after her lightening magic managed to give them the chance to disarm and capture Bellatrix.

"Impossible," Hermione said immediately. She was seated on the floor cushions and holding Cedric's hand. "We derived that structure from his notes. He wrote it himself. The reflection rune structure is unparalleled in unpredictability of power."

The student from Mahoutokoro frowned. "You don't feel the strength of his spirit," she said. "His will is unimaginably strong."

Tracey sighed. "Explain it to me again. The whole spirit thing." She was smoking and leaning against the railing of the ledge.

Cedric responded, noticing Hitomi's scowl.

Hitomi had been irritable ever since the rest of her classmates and teacher had decided to leave Hogwarts. She had chosen to remain behind after Bellatrix Black had laid siege to Hogwarts. She would have left too but Hitomi had questions and Bellatrix was the key to getting them.

Justice was at stake for her clan.

However, the foul witch was proving difficult to break. Under the cover of secrecy, she had even resorted to torture but that only made Bellatrix scream and then laugh. No matter what she did, the witch refused to tell her why she assaulted Mahoutokoro all those years ago.

Hitomi's family above all had suffered the worst of her attack. Her clan lost grace and she was born amidst a gloom of failure and defeat.

When she was old enough to think for herself; getting answers and killing Bellatrix Black became her soul purpose in life. Nothing else mattered to her. All she cared about was vengeance.

Unfortunately, Bellatrix's amusement to her actions was not helping her.

"Mahoutokoro students don't use magic like we do," Cedric explained patiently. "They use the power of manifestation through the strength of their will power. A necessary skill in using such magic is measuring the strength of the spirit or will of things around them. Be it rocks or gods.

They match their will with the will of the object and then manipulate it's energy to bring in under their control. It's an incredible art form and unstoppable if the user's will is strong."

Tracey gave a blank stare and Hermione sighed.

"You're never going to get it Trace. We're diverting from the main issue. The question is what do we do now?"

"We kill him," Hitomi said quietly. "He is too dangerous to be left alive."

"You can't be serious!" Tracey gasped.

"We're not killer Hitomi," Cedric said disapprovingly. He looked at Hermione for affirmation and found her sporting an uncomfortable look. His relationship with Hermione had unexpectedly bloomed when he found her researching dimensional charms. She was attempting to learn about the magic of space and time and that was a subject, that Cedric himself, was passionate about.

They had bared their souls to each other in the shortest amount of time and that was why her discomfort surprised Cedric.

Hermione?" he questioned.

Hermione's thoughts were running in a different direction. Unlike the rest of them she had seen Harry's true face. She had been only eleven years old but over the years she rationalised him as what the face of a monster would look like.

There was always an innate inexplicable horror drawn out of her when she saw in Harry.

This time when she saw him, she felt like she was staring into a bright abyss that was hiding the darkness of bottom.

"Hermione?!"

Hermione started with startle. "Sorry," she said. "Hitomi's been teaching me Mahoutokoro magic and my perceptions been a bit off lately," she said shakily.

"Are you okay?"

Cedric asked with concern.

Hermione's reply drowned under the sudden boom that shook the foundations of Hogwarts.

* * *

 _Magic is a tool. It is perceived as the beholder desires._

 _….. and the tool must never take control of the wielder._

 _\- Mahou the Mad._

The desert was alive with the scream of destructive magic and Voldemort's mind was recalling the first time he met Bellatrix Black.

 _Hold on._

It was strange that this clash propelling him back to a scene from his past that had redefined the structure of the wizarding world.

 _Hold on._

He had wanted to kill her. She had been too much of a wild card but instead he had chosen to make her his.

 _Hold on._

Voldemort and Dumbledore were not playing anymore. Dumbledore's expression had transformed from serene to fury. Magic thundered around him in the form of monstrous forms of transfiguration.

Voldemort was constantly on the back foot as draconic monsters shaded in red rushed at him with intent to crush. He was pouring all his power into blasting curses to destroy them but one was always replaced by two.

Gunfire erupted around them and the sand around them burst into geysers of particles. Panic was ripe among the men in the ship. They were witnessing a clash of titans.

 _Hold on._

Voldemort was waiting. Analysing. Trying to understand the nature of his old professor's rage. He didn't destroy his enemies with power alone. Voldemort's power lay in the depths of his cruelty. He enjoyed destroying his enemy's mind before he took their lives.

He had almost forgotten that while he wandered aimlessly in the desert. Confronted with absolute anonymity. Missing the civilization that he dreamed to rule over.

He was forced by the desert to change his pattern and instead of destroying again, he dodged and cast the spell of pain. A dark magic that warped the opponent's mind into their most feared memory. It looked like an uncontrollable stream of purple fire and was considered extremely dangerous by simple people.

Dumbledore raised a shield and with a bitter smile, deflected the fire. However, the power of the spell was enormous and he couldn't control the direction of the deflection.

He stared in horror at the direction the terrible spell roared in and could only watch as the muggle ship was engulfed in flames. Agonising screams began to echo in the desert.

Voldemort took advantage of Dumbledore's frozen state of mind and screamed "Crucio!"

Nerve racking pain tore through every nerve in the old professors body and with strength impossible he didn't scream but managed to keep his mind focused enough to apparate to escape.

He reappeared a little distance away and felt light headed as the torture curse wore off.

The desert fell silent. The crescent moon served to dimly illuminate their physical bodies.

The muggles were dead. More than ten seconds under the dark spell of pain forced the hearts of men to give out.

Dumbledore had failed to protect the weak yet again.

"Why Tom?" he whispered.

Voldemort heard just a mumble and walked closer. His feet sunk into the soft sand and he kept his wand ready for the next bout of spell fire.

He needed to summon enough strength to fight again and if Dumbledore wanted to talk, he wasn't against it.

"Why did you turn out like this?" Dumbledore said. His eyes were haunted and his shoulders hunched. There was a righteous anger inside him that building towards a reason to roar again. Roar and destroy the man before him.

"It's your fault professor," Voldemort said calmly. "Once upon a time I only desired your approval. To see those fabled kind eyes of the greatest wizard in the world. Instead all I ever saw was distrust and manipulations.

"You created me Albus."

Dumbledore scoffed. "Don't justify your debased mind with my distrust of you. I always saw you for the monster than you are."

"I only ever wanted our world to rise to the pinnacle of civilization. You, on the other hand, are an old man on a guilt trip that's forcing him to be something he's not."

Dumbledore went still and Voldemort's lips curled cruelly.

"That's right," he chuckled. "I visited Nurmengard and your old friend Gellert had some interesting stories to share."

"Don't talk about things you know nothing about Tom," Dumbledore spat.

Voldemort laughed. "It was you Albus. It was you who killed Ariana; your beloved sister. I saw it in his mind when he showed a moment of weakness."

"Look at you," Dumbledore hissed. "Taking pleasure in cruelty. It's what I saw in you when I first met you and it's what I see still. You should be glad your mother died giving birth to you. As flawed as she was, she would have been suffered if she had to raise you.

"You were born evil Tom. I was born for greatness. Don't compare me to you. You are nothing but destruction."

Voldemort felt an ice cold rage. There was still so much condescension in Dumbledore's eyes. It made him furious. He remembered his dream as a child, before the pain of living took over. It was to change the world. He wanted to make it better and along the way that pure intention was corrupted by the harsh realities of the ignored world. The world of orphans, homeless and forgotten. He had seen how revered Orion Black and Romulus Malfoy were in Hogwarts and that ignited his desire to be one of them. To not be seen as a common muggleborn.

And even after dwelling deep into the heart of magic his professor still looked down on him with contempt.

Voldemort's anger rose. And so did the dark will behind his spells. Voldemort had mastered the most traditional magic of all. Dark magic fuelled with anger.

The greater his rage the more destructive his magic became. Rage and destruction. That is what Voldemort is. And that is why he was considered the most dangerous Dark Lord's of all.

And here he was facing the self proclaimed harbinger of remorse and justice.

It pissed him off.

He screamed and every particle of sand for miles around them shot into the air with a sonic boom. With a snarl he slashed his wand at Dumbledore and he remained suspended in mid air.

"You're just a common murderer Albus!" he screamed as he dug deep into his hatred to power the curse. "You murdered you own sister and you know it!"

The sand almost the sky with fire as Dumbledore was mercilessly crushed under an unforgiving desert storm.

Suddenly Voldemort felt a threat from below him and he had to apparate and release the sand to avoid certain death. It was Dumbledore and Voldemort's eyes widened as he realised he still felt Dumbledore's magic under the mountain of sand he had spat at Dumbledore.

The ground level had gone down and suddenly Dumbledore and Voldemort found themselves staring at each other from opposite ends of a gargantuan pit. The strong winds had already starting filling the pit with sand and the aircraft carrier had long disappeared when the level of magic had escalated.

Voldemort took up and defensive position and smiled. "At long last," he said, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Albus Dumbledore reveals the true nature of his magic. The master of illusions."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Are we serious yet Albus?"

Dumbledore stood still. His face devoid of emotion and eyes hardened crystals. This was the dark side of Dumbledore. The side that believed in ruthless oppression and dreamed of holding the world in his own grips. It was the man that Aberforth Dumbledore, the forgotten Dumbledore, always saw in his brother Albus. The path that it took them was towards the death of their sister Ariana. The guilt Albus felt as a result of them turned him into the forced champion holding the scales of justice. This was the man Voldemort always saw behind those blue eyes and it was the man that he feared and respected.

To see the real man out in the open again after decades reignited Voldemort's excitement. This time he was going to prove he was greater than Albus Dumbledore.

"Feel horror, Tom.," Dumbledore whispered. You're going to regret running into me in this hellish world."

* * *

 ** _Time unknown. Hogwarts Dungeons._**

Harry hadn't expected to find company in the prison he was trapped in.

They were in the Potions class room and opposite him; Harry saw a feminine figure in rags curled up on the floor.

Her purple eyes glowed faintly in the low light of the cauldrons flames as they tracked his movements in his own prison.

Harry paused in his walk to observe her colours and they drew him in.

Her orange had shards of purple and white lanced in from her crown igniting chaotic explosions inside her colours. She exuded an aura that made him feel caution and a thrill of aggression.

For a moment Harry stood spellbound as he tried to understand the woman's magic.

"Well, well, well," chuckled Bellatrix Black. She was a mess of torn cloths and bruises. Her hair was burnt in places and her face gaunt.

Her purple eyes however, glowed with a purpose.

What was her purpose? Harry couldn't help but wonder when he drowned in her mystical eyes. What thought drove this woman to summon confidence and power in-spite of her terrible physical condition?

Why was she so interesting?

Bellatrix began to chuckle from her fallen position at the corner of her own personal runic cage. She didn't even have the strength to move. And yet she held confidence around her as if her current condition meant nothing.

Voldemort's right hand had been through much worse. She held no fear against her captors. They only served to amuse her.

Harry then noticed the similarities in her colours to that of Hitomi; the strange Japanese witch from Mahoutokoro. They both radiated an undercurrent of the intention to cut. While Hitomi's intent roused his interest, the woman before him roused caution and interest; a combination that was truly exciting.

Suddenly Harry grinned. "Who are you?" he asked. Who was this strange woman who captured his attention with such intensity?

Bellatrix just laughed and retreated into her foetal position on the floor.

He was not going to get any answers from her. Her aura told him that much clearly so Harry chose to turn his attention back to breaking apart the cage.

It was a smart set up, he silently acknowledged. Any wand waver would be unable to escape from the prison but he wasn't a wand waver. He had looked into the heart of magic and understood it's nature. It was cleverly designed to channel magic into a pocket dimension that would be reflected back at the user.

It was unbreakable unless the user was capable of destroying the dimension itself.

Harry grinned. The cage would be unable to hold him.

He summoned the void and pushed it against the top of the runic cage. He felt his magic being forced back against him but he focused on forcing the magic to go in circles with him as a conduit and as a result the power being generated kept increasing.

It would keep increasing until the dimension was overpowered and destroyed. The dimension was a creation of runic magic. He however commanded magic as a language. The cage stood no chance against him.

"What the fuck!" Bellatrix screamed.

Harry was crackling with energy and the sound of the pocket dimension's howl began to emit from the thinly visible bars. Watching with awe at the power the thin boy commanded made Bellatrix remember her first meeting with Lord Voldemort.

The Void tore at the fabric of reality and Bellatrix felt her conscious go dark.

 ** _December. Nineteen Seventy._**

The portrait was one of blood shed and violence.

The cliff that held Mahoutokoro school of magic was strewn with bodies and death.

Yet, despite the sheer horror the school of magic was witnessing, Bellatrix Black laughed manically as her beaten body was driven away from the school by clans that survived her attempt to steal their prized possession - The Sword of Mahou the Mad. It was said to be the sharpest and deadliest blade in existence. It was a favourite target of humans who sought the ultimate power and Bellatrix was the first thief to almost lay hands on it along with several other souvenirs along the way.

"Be **gone** from here witch!" thundered the samurai in lead and he manipulated the earth to crush the invader to death.

Bellatrix slashed her wand with a snarl in an arc and the earth was cut apart with a boom. She slapped her hands together with her wand out straight and the air pulsed and pushed the massive rock formations at the defending forces.

The five men standing at the back of the leaders spread their arms out calmly and with a gentle upward thrust of their palm the broken land was guided into an arc before speeding towards the fleeing witch.

Bellatrix screaming in frustration as the Earth around her exploded into bits and pieces that mercilessly attacked her weakening shields.

Lightening coursed through the air and Bellatrix felt her strength fail as overpowering magic overwhelmed her senses.

Suddenly she felt her world right itself and realised she had fallen on the ground.

Her heart was pounding and her ears numb with a loud ringing sound. The ground however was smooth and still and as her sight cleared she saw walls instead of rocks.

"Am I dead?"

"Not yet."

It was then Bellatrix realised she was not on the edge of the mountain and was in a barren house instead.

She scrambled to her feet and looked around with wild eyes to curse her captor.

He was standing by the window and smiling at her. His sharp blue eyes were full of amusement.

"Tom," she spat in anger. "Why did you pull me out! I was just about to loose my full power on them!"

"You were about to be cooked alive," said Tom Riddle mildly.

"Give me another chance," she pleaded. "I got close this time and I'll get it for sure the next time!"

The sun was at noon and bright light cast his long shadow over Bellatrix who waited with baited breath, feeling her adrenaline pump and body hurt.

"No."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest as Tom raised a finger to quieten her. There was an unexplainable aura of dominance around him. It attracted Bellatrix to him like a bird to freedom.

"I have another proposal for you."

"Say it," huffed Bellatrix. She was a mercenary on hire and to have a failure on her record was unacceptable.

"I don't care about the sword. It was just a test to see your power with my own eyes."

"What?!" Anger flooded Bellatrix's veins and the urge to kill her client rose up like a volcano ready to erupt.

"If you chose to refuse my offer I'll still pay you and consider the contract fulfilled," he added.

This time Bellatrix quietened. Her curiosity was piqued and the bruise to her pride was temporarily soothed.

"And if you accept I'll pay you nothing yet promise you the world to be your own."

"My real name is Lord Voldemort," he began.

Bellatrix's eyes widened and Voldemort laughed softly. His eyes observed the attractive dark haired witch and mused with the idea of just eliminating her as a threat to his dream world. There was, however, something innately fascinating about her that made him hesitate. Her aura seemed to scream look and desire but dare to touch and there would be unimaginable consequences.

He felt his magic urging him to be cautious and that feeling made him decide not to kill her.

"You are the one said to have found Herpo's tomb," she said with a hush of awe.

"What I found in there will help me rule this world one day," Voldemort whispered. "And to do that I need powerful allies."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a menacing smile. "I'm not interested in ruling the world."

"You're not interested in being part of an event that will turn the world on its head and etch our names into history?"

"That's got nothing to do with ruling the world," Bellatrix scoffed.

Voldemort stepped forward. The light seemed to meld around his tall and well aged face. His hair was black and neatly pushed to one side.

"Sooner or later there's going to be nothing that can stand in your way. And when that happens, you'll wish you had a purpose. Join my dark army, let me be your guide, and I promise, you'll never be bored."

The world held it's breath. One name was known all over as the new mercenary that all of the underworld desired. The other was mildly known as a powerful dark wizard, but it was the forging of this bond that would spell the beginning of an upheaval in political and magical power.

Bellatrix chuckled. There was something very interesting about this man, she thought. "I'll join you under one condition," she said coyly.

Voldemort waited patiently and observed the emotions reflect in her expression.

"I refuse to be part of some group that calls itself the dark army. Call it the witches dance of Walpurgis night or something and I'll join, " she said with a mischievous giggle.

The memory faded and Bellatrix's conscious returned, choked back from the darkness by the cloud of smoke and dust that had overrun the dungeons.

"It had never been about ideology," she whispered dreamily as Harry's silhouette shone through the cloud of dust. "It was just about having fun!"

The sense of freedom brought by the sudden freedom from her cage crazed Bellatrix and she lunged at Harry with a maniacal laugh.

She could feel it again.

The thrill of a revolution. The vision of a world rebuilt with the foundations of power.

So similar to the ideology of survival.

* * *

 _A man only understands his true self after he experiences the darkness that consumes the bottom of his soul._

 _-Lily Potter to Albus Dumbledore about Severus Snape_

Dumbledore always thought he had experienced that when Ariana had died and found his true self as a just and peaceful man.

Instead, after all these years, he understood it was just guilt that made him that man. At the bottom, he was just a man who dreamed of ruling the world. Just like Voldemort. And that was why he secretly hated the boy before him the day he saw him.

Dumbledore had hit rock bottom.

The air around them began to shimmer as Dumbledore raised his wand above his head, held with both hands.

Voldemort closed his eyes, summoned the strongest shield he knew off and prepared himself as the light was slowly sucked out of the atmosphere.

The world was Dumbledore's illusion now. He felt death coming at him from everywhere and he summoned destructive magic and imbued it into his shield. He had to rely on pure destructive power now. This was his test to see if his power had truly exceeded the illusions and dark face of Professor Dumbledore.

He felt the magic strengthen around him and used it to fuel the power of his curse. The desert recognised they just want to destroy each other and charged the air with power.

Voldemort held his left hand and the air vibrated violently forcing Dumbledore to shield his ears. With his thrust of his wand hand, waves black magic appeared hypnotically around them and the atmosphere began to meld into a dark mist.

It was a spell designed by him to trap the enemy in nothingness.

Dumbledore had taken away his eyes. Voldemort was going to rob him of his senses.

* * *

 _Madness is a rare perspective on the unknowable universe. You're one of the special ones Bella._

 _-Tom Riddle to Bellatrix Black_

Harry was caught off guard and he felt his breath escape when he was pushed against the wall by a surprisingly strong woman.

He gasped and his eyes bulged when he felt her grab him between his legs.

His hormones reacted in extremes and he wasn't able to perceive what was happening. His body began to heat as he felt her body press up against him.

Bellatrix looked deep into his shocked eyes and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"We humans," she murmured, "are brutal creatures. To hide from that truth we bury ourselves in good deeds and delusions of healing the world."

Suddenly she released him and stumbled back with a chuckle.

"I'm grateful to you," she said with a bark of a laugh. "This world you've created! The possibilities are so limitless that it's making my head spin!" Bellatrix doubled over and slapped her knees while laughing uncontrollably. She was speaking in gasps and tears of hysterical insanity began to down her cheeks.

Harry was left breathless after the sudden encounter and control returned to his body along with a heat of a strange hunger he remembered experiencing once before.

His breath came with a shudder and he pulled at the Void when rage, embarrassment and humiliation at almost being killed because of losing focus rose up in him. But when he looked into her eyes and saw the craziness they reflected, he stopped. He recognized those eyes. He felt like, suddenly, he was looking in a mirror.

"I'll take my leave now," she chuckled. "Let's meet again sometime sweetie!" she crowed and backed away into the dust and smoke that lay beyond the gaping hole in the side of the castle.

Just like that, she was gone.

She had, however, left a lasting impression on Harry just like so many before him.

Dust fell from the ceiling when an after shock from the shifting foundations spread through the castle.

Harry felt his breathing and heart beat return to normal and he tried to breakdown what occurred in the last ten seconds.

He was alone in the dungeons. The lady was not there. Had he imagined it all?

No!

The madness he saw was not his. It was a woman. A mystical crazy woman who radiated indomitable power.

Harry scowled when he finally got to understanding how she had taken him by surprise.

She had used her sexuality against him physically.

Harry took a deep breath to calm his sexual energies and his mind returned to the present.

He had been trapped by some pathetic excuses of witches and wizards after returning to Hogwarts. He had gained a wonderful hold on sanity and felt his thoughts make better sense than before.

Then he had met a crazy lady who had almost thrown away his handle on sanity.

Magic it seemed… still held surprises for him.

He grinned. He looked forward to seeing her again.

* * *

 ** _Time Unknown. The Desert._**

The sun beat down and wind carried coarse particles of sand towards the endless dunes over the horizon.

Nothing was different. Nothing had changed. A gargantuan battle had taken place in the spot and what remained was the desert that slowly buried two bodies under its unforgiving sand.

A distortion shimmered between them and one of the bodies disappeared.

Dumbledore got up with a gasp and the first thing he realized was that he could not feel his left arm. His body ached. He was not channelling magic anymore and his body was feeling its withdrawal fiercely.

Taking slow and shallow breaths, Dumbledore gently arranged himself into a half seated position and looked around.

He was alone.

If it weren't for the obvious pain of using powerful magic in a battle, Dumbledore would have thought the entire night was a hallucination.

He had fought with Tom and… ….? He remembered striking his enemy with a split second illusion of grandeur that distracted Tom long enough for him to stab him in the chest with a piercing curse.

Had it been enough to finally kill him?

Exhaustion had taken him away after that and when he woke the desert had already taken either him or Tom away. The scenery looked the same no matter where he went.

It almost felt like the encounter had been the desert's will.

It gave him what he needed to survive. It made him remember who he really was under all the illusions and masks. He was a man who dreamed to rise to the pinnacle of magical learning. Sure his path had fallen and risen too many times to count but at the darkest corner of his soul he learnt something that he had fought against for decades.

 _I am a good man._

He had hit rock bottom and found himself rising with a guiltless soul.

"Lily," he whispered, remembering her words.

"I'm done," he whispered into the wind. "I can't fight anymore. I just want to die in peace."

"I'm so sorry for what I did to Harry. Please forgive me."

He slowly laid back down and closed his eyes.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

He felt the desert slowly bury him and did nothing to stop it.

"Forgive me."

Dumbledore felt his soul evolve and he let go.


	42. Theatre of Abyss

**Theatre of Abyss**

 ** _Time Unknown. Hogwarts Great Hall._**

The lives holding on to the glories of the past are trapped in time to suffer the consequences of living . They are in a a cage designed to hold on to rationality.

Having had no communication with the outside world that had now been destroyed was a terrifying thought to experience in their current state of existence.

Hogwarts had fallen.

What had always been a bastion for hope was now a shelter for a race afraid to confront the unknown.

"We don't know the whole story yet but our understanding is that London may have been destroyed by the dark lord."

An assembly had been called and only ten students had showed up.

"What does that mean?!"

"It means reduced to rubble moron."

"Where's Potter!"

"Does he know how to get the fuck out of here?!"

"Silence!" thundered Snape. He was sick being trapped as well, but keeping the students safe was his responsibility. It was what Dumbledore expected of him and he was not going to fail the old man who had given him a second chance at life.

A boom silenced them all and the entire castle quaked with tremendous force.

"What in Merlin's name?!" gasped Draco Malfoy.

Draco couldn't remember the last time he had a good day. His white blonde hair was uncombed and he wore his robes like a boy who just didn't care anymore. He had lost everything. His power, his family, the status his blood once held. Everything was gone.

A piercing sound began to scream through the air and McGonagall gasped in horror. That sound meant only one thing.

"The foundations!" she shouted in horror. "They've been damaged!"

"Everyone out of the castle!" Professor Flitwick squeaked in alarm. The half goblin - half human former duellist champion had never thought the day would come. They day he had to even consider that their beloved home was facing the possibility of being destroyed! The shock that thought brought about in him made him feel terrified by the thing that was capable of such an impossible feat.

The planned inquisition of the students had turned into a state of heightened alarm. All the fear they had been holding in and controlling had been bursting at the seams ever since Bellatrix and Harry had come.

Now the foundations of Hogwarts were hit and could quite possibly come crashing down? They couldn't take it anymore. The constantly suppressed urge to run began to seep through the cracks of their resolve.

Hogwarts quaked and groaned like steel screaming against rock.

From the Astronomy tower, flying on brooms, Hermione and her companions flew towards them. Hermione was sitting behind Cedric and clutching him around his waist for fear of falling off.

Hitomi landed beside Snape. McGonagall, Pomfrey and Sprout began shepherding the younger and more dependant students towards the grounds by the lake where there was no risk of being crushed by falling debris.

"How could he break the cage," Hermione said in shock and wonder.

All of them were familiar with the stories that revolved around Harry Potter in Hogwarts. He was termed a psychopath. A sociopath. A Dark Lord. A murderer. A special needs boy. The Boy who lived to Kill.

"There!" gasped Flitwick. He couldn't believe Harry had broken the cage. He had thought the rune structure unbreakable!

From the bend of the castle between the lake and the hidden cliff behind the castle, came Harry. His hair was grey with soot and dust. Robes still crumpled and repaired by Pomfrey.

Hermione and Vector immediately began to converse in urgent whispers about what possible runic structures they could use effectively in the shortest time while Flitwick, Snape and Hitomi moved forward to create distance between the students and Harry. They knew what had to be done. There was no choice now. They had talked about this after capturing Harry.

Snape saw Lily's eyes before anything else and his heart clenched. What had her son become? A monster they were willing to kill? Could they kill him?

Seeing him without looking like he was knocking on death's door made him take in more details than before.

Harry was taller, he realized. Thinner but… not weak. In fact his body movements were fluid… confident…. His hair was longer too. It now ran wild and brushed against the back of his nape. What made him take pause was the vibrant youth reflected in his face. If he didn't know who Harry was, he would have filed it as another teenager going through their rebellious phase. It was always in there eyes. The mad desire to upend structure. How he hated teenagers!

Harry walked with measured length and didn't bother about the wands pointed at him. Instead he was taking in the sight of the magic that had lit up the sky and horizons.

 _Everything had changed._

Magic… A dimension beyond human understanding… He reached out with the Void and saw runes shimmer into life… awaiting his words and yet… there was something behind the veil. Something unseen and unheard.

"It's strange," Harry muttered.

The colours were brighter too. He was seeing a depth to them he hadn't noticed before. It was almost like he was looking through the window of an enclosed room in an ocean of mystery.

In its undisturbed yet chaotic state he could almost hear the sound it was trying to make.

 _Evolve._

Harry wondered if he was hearing it right.

The desert had stripped apart his personality; left him a desperate survivor until he found a reason to live beyond surviving.

It started with the desire for human contact and the desert gave him Rita Skeeter. Rita gifted him her head to make him understand that magic had a consciousness that was far greater than him. The Source, it was called by those who believed. The idea that Harry had chosen to dwell deep in while ignoring the world around him.

Rita showed him the way home, out of the mind bending reality of the desert, and here Harry found the strong foundations of his life before the creation of the desert.

He felt like he was at the center of time. He could see his past clearly and his future cloudy.

It seemed like his every step needed careful thought and contemplation.

To that end, the first thing he wanted was his wand and diary; his possessions. He wanted to write. He needed to assemble his thoughts to form a path forward.

This was an important cross road.

"Harry!"

The voice prompted a scowl on Harry and he turned to his professors and school mates. _Why did they always bother me?_ Harry thought with an annoyed sigh.

"What?" he snapped. He hadn't forgotten that cheap trick. The urge to summon waves of fire and watch with pleasure as they burned and screamed roiled in the void. He wanted to see them wither away against the soul breaking storms of his desert.

His anger boiled and he took a deep calming breath. He didn't want to lose control. Not after having fought so hard to find it.

"What?" he repeated with a soft hiss of controlled irritation.

"What did you do?" Flitwick asked with a tremble of anger at the fate that had fallen on his precious home. "Where's Bellatrix?"

Hitomi made a move to draw her sword with a cold look in her eyes but Snape put a hand up to stop her and took another step towards Harry.

"Potter," he said softly, ignoring the Japanese girls glare. "Just answer me this. How do we find Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry's eyes slid to the tight grip they had on their wands. He glanced at the runes forming around Hermione and Vector and scoffed. It looked like they were initiating an attack spell. They were trying to ask magic to manipulate the earth to trap him but their will was too weak. Their connection to the source almost non existent.

It was a fact to Harry that they could not stop him. He could see what they were capable of and he was curious to see what will they would do. Would they fight knowing there was no hope to win? As always the first instinct to react with violence rose within him when faced conflict. But this time he could control it. Convert it into something else. Something that held more meaning and therein lay the conundrum. He had known anger and rage all his life. And it had been exhausted in the desert.

Harry was finding it difficult to identify what remained.

He knew he had a purpose. A quest to serve the will of magic and contribute to its evolution.

But what was this he was feeling? A rising tide of emotion that was causing strange thoughts to take root and then flight. He couldn't identify it. It felt like he had to grasp on to something. He had to form an attachment to something real. It was important.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the ground with measured calm. Maybe if they calmed down he could figure out what he had to do.

"Sit?" burst out Draco; who had been edging towards the trio while ignoring McGonagall's hissed fury demanding him to come back. "What the fuck do you mean sit! This isn't a fucking play! The castle's about to fall!" To prove his point, the astronomy tower began to crumble, unable to stand tall over the failing foundations. Draco was beyond reason now. All he wanted to do was point his wand at the monster and murder him on the spot! But his fear of Harry was deep rooted and prevented him from going through with it.

Harry saw the colours of fear swirl through Draco's red chaotic and felt amused, however, too his own surprise, he found himself thinking about fixing the castle before it completely collapsed. He didn't want to break his attachment to it.

 _Maybe I should fix it, he thought. Maybe it holds an answer._ Harry thought.

He closed his eyes and reached out with the Void.

The source of the castle's magic was deeply rooted in the Earth. His destructive magic had torn the threads holding the castle tall. He immersed his mind into the core of the magic and let out a tiny gasp. Even in its shredded state, the magic wanted to protect. That was it core. The desire to protect everyone within its walls.

The purity of the magic hit Harry deep and he didn't hear Draco's scream of frustration.

He compared it to his own dream of seeing the world cleaned with one true instinct dominant.

Harry realised he could not let the castle be destroyed. It was important. It had to stand tall and firm while the world changed around them. He didn't fully understand why, but he knew it was what magic wanted.

To the wonder of the others, they suddenly witnessed an incredible sight of falling debris reverse direction and snappily reform into its original state in a matter of seconds.

Harry didn't hear the gasps of wonder and awe from the bunch near the lake. It made him feel good to feel the castle's magic heal and radiate strength again.

He opened his eyes with a soft sigh and grinned. To the other's it looked like a mock and an insult. Where they ran hopelessly, he restored order with naught but a blink of his eyes.

"Does this mean you're going to be reasonable?" Snape asked through a controlled breath of readiness.

Hitomi, on the other hand, lost patience. She knew a demon when she saw one and was firm in her belief that he needed to be killed. If the others were thinking he could be reasoned with they were sorely mistaken!

She drew her sword and summoned her will to battle. The monster was distracted. Now was the time to strike!

Lightening surged in the sky and Harry felt a sharp form of magic rising in the girl. It was that magic that had piqued his curiosity when he first saw her and was impressed to see it out in the open. The runes were screaming their desire to cut and destroy him.

Hitomi slashed her sword at him and the magic was refined through the focal of the tip of her wand.

Harry wrapped the Void around her magic and broke her spell with intent to crush.

Hitomi gasped as her spell fall apart. A recoil rushed through her sword and she stumbled back as a powerful will to dominate slammed into the core of her mind.

"Fuck!" Snape shouted and drew his wand back. " _escuro oscura_!"

A dark ooze fell out of Snape's wand and began to form into dead trees that cracked out of the ground rapidly towards Harry.

At its core, Harry saw death.

The Void got excited.

Flitwick twirled his wand with unreadable speed and conjured a dragon made of wind. It rushed out of his wand like tornado falling from a darkening sky. Harry could tell it was stronger than it looked and more dangerous than the approaching death forest.

Red roots burst out of the ground and Harry noticed Hermione and the other professor were done with the initiation of the rune structure. They were trying to pull him underground and bury him alive.

It was as Harry stood there, getting dragged underground, surrounded by death trees, with a dragon made of wind inbound from the sky, bored at their attempts to kill him, he realised the strangeness of the situation.

He was offering them a chance to survive in-spite of them standing in his way and trying to kill him. He wouldn't even have contemplated that thought one sunrise ago. He would have lashed out with the void and decorated their carcass.

But now…. He found himself contemplating their survival instead of his own.

Why? He wondered.

Why do I want them to live? What reason was there to let them live?

A memory of his uncle Vernon flashed.

It used to be him fallen on the ground far in the past. What he saw in them was a representation of what he wanted to crush out of the world. One sunrise ago, the sight of that, would have made him crush them under his rage, and now he was hesitating.

Hitomi summoned another bolt of lightening and in unison with Flitwick, charged the dragons fangs with a hateful intent to make Harry bleed.

Harry didn't want to fight. He wanted to think.

He was dragged down to his waist and the dragon sank his fangs into his visible torso.

The trees bent with their tips pointed at him and all their darkness was unleashed on him.

 _May be I should sneak out of here._

Nostalgia of his life at Hogwarts hit him hard. He realised he used to enjoy it. Being invisible and free to do whatever he liked.

Life was sucked out of the ground as Snape's curse bounced around the Void protecting Harry.

The howl of violence died down and disbelief reigned supreme.

The Void helped him out of the ground and he dusted his robes with a frown.

"Are you done?" he asked with disappointment.

"Monster," Hitomi spat.

The venom in her voice startled him.

He looked into her colours and soul. There was an obsession with revenge and justice in her so intense that Harry found himself feeling a new emotion. He saw a part of himself in her. The green began to pulse strong and he felt a heat around his heart.

Was he feeling sympathy?

"What is happening to me?" he whispered in wonder.

Suddenly he felt a malicious intent from the tree line his thoughts sharpened. He sensed a threat. Something was coming.

 _"Legiliemens."_

Snape took a shot and suddenly he was inside Harry mind without resistance pulling at the memories of the trial.

Harry was taken by surprise and a silent cry left his lungs as he felt a sharp pain between his eyes and felt his violet getting pierced by an intrusive magic.

He closed his eyes and forced the magic out with a rise of anger. When he opened them, he saw Bellatrix. She was grinning at him after stabbing Hitomi in the back.

Her eyes were filled with fire and glee as she pried the sword out of the dead girl's grasp and sensually ran her fingers on the blade.

"NO!"

Harry was stunned. What? Why did she come back? How had she moved so fast? Why did she kill Hitomi?

The children began to cry and despair and shock played havoc in the adults.

Holding the sword reverently Bellatrix whispered, "Everything began with this. It's appropriate I end it with this."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm. This was dangerous! He could feel the vast space around him compress with the intent to kill. It felt like countless blades pressing against him, screaming and scratching against the void with malice.

"Black!" screamed Flitwick and turned his wand on her with unspeakable rage in his goblin eyes.

Bellatrix turned the face of the blade and Flitwick collapsed in a heap of blood. Magic had cut him into an unrecognisable pulp. He was dead.

"Run," shouted McGonagall in despair. There was no more hope. Madness had overrun the world and had finally taken Hogwarts. "Run! Everyone run!" No one disagreed with her. There was no reason here. Only death awaiting.

Harry felt something strange when focused on the dead bodies of the fallen. Their lives taken away in the span of an eye blink. He had taken life too, but seeing it in third person was something unique.

This is the first time I'm seeing a murder, Harry realised.

He felt a cold rush of thrill. He felt the addictive call of the act deemed unforgivable by society. A society which he had razed with the sands of hell.

"You're smiling," giggled Bellatrix.

Harry eyes rose to meet deeply expressive purple eyes that desired the need to commit the unspeakable. A magic that could cut deep into the soul of its victims without mercy and ripe with malice. And now, that magic, that intent, was made stronger by the blade in her hand.

There was a sudden silence in the grounds. Even Snape had chosen to leave. He knew when it was time to run. Harry found himself to be least bothered by their flight and tragic loss of life and instead was attracted to the stolen blade.

"What is that sword?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix ignored him and chuckled. "Merlin's cunt that was hilarious!" she exulted pointing at Flitwick. "He was torn apart just like that!"

It was pitiable, Harry agreed. The power Bellatrix was exuding was beyond his sight. A slow excitement began to grow in him. Was she going to attack him? Was she strong enough to make him bleed?

His attention, however, remained held by the sword. He could tell it amplified the magic of the user. In Hitomi's hands they were a caution sign at best, it didn't merit a second glance. In Bellatrix's it warned him to seriously defend if attacked and made him look deeper into the magic of the sword.

The script of the magic, however, was too deep. Harry was unable to see or understand.

"Now, Harry Potter," Bellatrix breathed. She took a stance with the blade held loose and ready. "Are you ready to show me your magic? I can't wait to taste it!"

"You are certainly interesting," Harry said with a grin. The confusion in his mind about being back at Hogwarts cleared. He was remembering a feeling he had thought long lost. A feeling that defined the thought of those worthy of magic. The desire to find wizards who would match the calibre of the void.

Bellatrix's eyes lit up. "Show me," she whispered eagerly.

"But sadly the stage isn't quite right."

Bellatrix frowned in confusion and then gasped in outrage.

"Sorry," Harry said with a chuckle.

He opened the void, reached out to the chaotic magic swirling in the sky and twisted the runes of the labyrinth around Bellatrix like a spider weaving a web of steel.

"No!" screamed Bellatrix but it was useless.

She slashed her sword in fury and disappeared into a distortion.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Voices and images rushed through his mind as he connected with the chaos in the sky. The distortions of his curse. His mind shook under the force of an uncertain will. He couldn't disconnect.

He had to find something to replace him or else he felt like he would be buried by the power in the sky.

With a grit of his teeth he found the forest and her magic gladly latched on.

The source let go of him and fell to his knees with a gasp. That had been unexpected.

He looked to the forest to see the result of his quick escape.

Unexpectedly and relieving… there was finally silence and the forest… was transforming.

Harry was enthralled by the power that had been absorbed by the forest. Power that he had found overwhelming to hold on to for more than a few seconds.

The magic grew heavy and the trees began to thicken.

Hogwarts latched on as well and the strings of magic shielding the castle grew thicker and darker.

Something was happening and Harry realised it would be wise to take shelter within the castle walls.

The wind began to take pace as he hurried to the great entrance and stepped foot into his first home.

The doors shut and suddenly, in the silence of the dark stone walls and long corridors, Harry felt he was home.

Had he really missed it that much?


	43. Part Six - Evolution

_**Part Six - Evolution**_

 **Rebirth**

 ** _Time Unknown. A coast._**

"I'm close," he groaned.

"Wait!" She increased the pace. "Almost there," she gasped.

The door was knocked hard and Sirius lost his concentration and came with a pleasured groan.

"God dammit!" she cursed as she felt him warm and go soft inside her.

The door was knocked repeatedly again.

The woman leaned against his chest as he lay sprawled over the sofa with an expression of lazy pleasure in his eyes.

"Sirius!" called a young feminine voice from outside with impatience.

"Mind if I get that?" Sirius asked with his trademark grin.

She huffed and got off with annoyance. "Couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds, could you?" she grumbled under her breath and began to gather up her clothes.

Sirius pulled on his pants with a roll of his eyes and opened the dilapidated door that served as an excuse for privacy in the magically enforced sand hut.

It was Daphne.

She looked in and scowled when she saw the back of a woman pulling on a shirt.

"We have guests I think you'll want to meet," she said tightly.

Sirius sighed and raised a finger asking for a minute.

He turned to the woman who was looking at him expectantly and smiled when he handed her a bag lying on the bed in the corner.

"Nice doing business with you," she whispered and left with a swagger, leaving Daphne a fake smile as she went past her.

Sirius opened his mouth to explain but she just raised her hand and shook her head. "I don't want to know," she said darkly.

"So, who are the newcomers?" he asked, changing the topic.

"Come on," she huffed and turned on her heel.

Sirius followed with an eye roll.

It was late in the evening and the air was rapidly cooling as the light gave way to darkness. In the distance, within the grasp of fading light, crooked mounds of hardened sand that served as simple housing could be seen haphazardly spread around with survivors outside wrapped up in blankets starting to light fires.

Daphne spied the skinny woman lazily making way to where most muggles had made camp.

The huts with wizards and witches in them were the big ones that had dozens of smaller ones around it. Magic was needed to survive the harsh environment. Without it death clawed into life mercilessly.

Daphne had taken initiative and encouraged sharing magic from the moment the first muggle strayed to their little camp of two.

Sirius's hut was away from the majority and closer to the sea. Not many dared to brave the proximity of the sea at night. It was where monsters came from to hunt when they got hungry.

In the mornings, there was a mad rush at attempts to fish but the receding sea line deeply impacted their courage of the settlement to venture further away from the strange familiarity they had made with the desert. Not to mention a terrible island lay a few miles off shore and the further the water pulled away, the closer Azkaban got.

"What was in the bag?" Daphne finally asked as they walked towards what they considered the entrance to the settlement. Venture further outside that invisible line and there was probably no return.

"Apples," Sirius replied.

Daphne scoffed. She didn't believe him. "Where did you find apples?"

"A boat wreck a little down the beach. Marla happened to see me salvaging it and we worked out a sweet deal."

"Typical," Daphne muttered under her breath. "The world's coming to an end and all you do is sweet talk desperate woman."

Sirius refrained from retorting. Marla happened to agree with him. The world was doomed. And besides, it wasn't like she wasn't attracted to him. He was better choice for sexual release than most of the folks making camp in the settlement by the sea. Him being a wizard was a handy bonus as well.

Where Sirius had chosen to find freedom in the desert, Daphne had thrown herself into gaining a foothold in Harry's hell and fight back. She could not let the bitter taste of betrayal overwhelm her.

With magic and bitter will, Daphne had herded the survivors who had made it to them and inspired in them the need to survive.

That night, the strong-willed settlement by the sea was formed. A society trapped between an ocean and a desert determined to survive and born from Daphne's will of resistance.

And now, with the arrival of the newcomers, she could finally find hope for progress.

There was a stretch of desert determined to be a safe zone from the threat of spatial distortions. Here, they had constructed an outpost using wreckage from the sea and magic to make it stand. As the days and nights began to blur, so did the population of the settlement. Survivors kept wandering in and a community began to form.

When Arthur Weasley wandered into their settlement, muggles and wizards began to interact more freely, they began to imagine ways to survive and create methods to harvest water, capture schools of fish and build simple homes.

Most had already adjusted to life in a desert with magic to aid them.

As Daphne and Sirius reached the outpost, Sirius's eyes widened. The last person could have he imagined was here. Severus Snape. Accompanying him was a young bushy haired brunette wearing worn out Hogwarts robes.

They were weak and exhausted. The watcher of the outpost had found them and given them water and fish in small potions to regain some of their strength.

"Snape!" gasped Sirius.

Daphne stayed silent. She had talked with them before bringing Sirius. Hogwarts had fallen. Harry was there. That was all there was to be summarised.

Even in a near death situation Snape managed to sneer at Sirius and then ignore him. Instead, he turned to Daphne and scowled. "I thought you said you were bringing help?"

Daphne smiled sweetly. "Sirius will guide you through the culture of this camp and I'll do the same with Hermione." She helped Hermione to her feet. "Come on, Hermione. You just got to understand a few things before finally getting to rest."

Hermione looked at Daphne with wide eyes and then turned to Snape questioningly. They had been through hell since leaving Hogwarts, was it okay to just leave?

"Go," Snape muttered.

Daphne rose an eyebrow at the byplay but Sirius ignored it. Sirius was more surprised to realise that he felt nothing towards Snape. There was no hate. Only apathy.

"See you later kids," Sirius added with a resigned sigh. He might as well get this over with. Hate had no place in the new world.

Daphne, with skill that made Hermione's eye widen, transfigured a portion of the sand beneath them into shimmering carpet and enchanted it to fly.

"Well get on," Daphne said to Hermione. "Firsts things first, we got to get you a change of clothes. I'm shocked you're still in black. Don't you know anything about heat and colours?"

Hermione sat on the enchanted carpet with a sigh. "It's good to see you Daphne," she murmured. There were unshed tears waiting to be spilt.

Daphne looked at Hermione passively as she guided the carpet towards the camp. "Just hold on a bit longer Hermione," she said softly. "It's going to be okay."

The words were filled with optimistic uncertainty.

* * *

 ** _Place Unknown, Time unknown._**

Global communication had become a problem as soon as England was covered by a lightning storm.

 _Buzz._

"What do you see?"

"It's a sort of lightning storm spanning an unfathomable area. It's definitely expanding."

"Why are your magnetic readings so strange? Is there anything else you see?"

 _Buzz._

"We think it has something to do with the epicentre. If we keep looking at it, it almost feels like we're looking into an abyss. And we've been checking the magnetic readings all over the planet and if the calculations are correct they seems to be…." _Buzz_.

They lost contact.

"This is bad."

"Well thanks for stating the obvious. I had imagined the major climate change occurring all over the world was bad enough!"

The head of department sitting tensely behind his desk took a deep sigh and rested his chin on his palms. "We have to identify what it is that is making the magnetometers go haywire. Start looking for patterns in the reading. It felt like our guys up there were talking about a source which suggests there is an abnormality in the Earth. If we find it, maybe we can stop it."

The scientist sighed. "I'll go wake the rest of the team."

Sleep deprivation was becoming a favourite pass time of this team determined to understand the weather change so that they would take appropriate measures to save lives. It was only after the disaster occurred that the world leaders decided to give unlimited funding to scientists who studied global warming was useful.

The world was up against something primal and ancient. Guns and bombs were useless it the face of it.

* * *

 ** _Hogwarts, Time Unknown._**

Harry walked down the halls of Hogwarts with a faint smile. How far he had come in his quest to find the source! He had peeked into its vastness and created the desert. A desert that seemed to exist below his feet and above his head - both having secrets he had yet to unfold.

He felt nostalgia as he returned to the grand library. He felt an emotion in his green that made him feel weak. He let it enter the rest of his colours without resistance and analysed what he felt. He was glad to be home, he realised. He felt protected… safe here. It made him want to lower his guard. He wanted to fight it like he always did but this time he wanted to evolve. It was essential to survive with a rational mind intact.

Footsteps disturbed his thoughts. There was someone walking in the distance. The sounds were leisurely fading away. Harry wondered who it was and changed his path towards the sound.

They were leading to the Gryffindor tower.

He caught up and was surprised to see it was someone who had once left an impression in his memory.

"It's Luna, isn't it?" Her colours were as fascinating as ever. "Hermione mentioned you had my wand?"

Luna turned around, taken aback. She hadn't sensed anyone around her and was briefly surprised to see him in person. She had only ever heard about him and never really met him face to face. Looking at him closely, she noticed how chaotic the Wrackspurts were around him.

"Harry Potter," she murmured. "Have you come here to kill me?" Luna felt like the question needed to be asked.

The white of her crown dipped right down to her red, mixing and changing his perception of them as they rose out again. He could not read her. "I want to know if you have my wand and notebook."

"They're in the astronomy tower," she replied. "Should be in the black storage trunk."

That said, she looked and him expectantly and calmly.

Harry didn't know how to react or what to say next. He had expected resistance as he always faced when he wanted something but this girl offered none and to complicate matters, he couldn't read her at all.

For the first time in his life he felt the need to get to know another human being.

"Can you lead the way?"

Luna smiled at him warmly and nodded.

Harry felt a wave of the bizarre blanket his mind and several questions popped up. _What was this girl? Why did it feel like she could read his mind? Was she an awakened being?_

As he followed her, he also felt a kind of thrill. Out of the many questions one stood out. _Did she see what he saw in magic?_

Harry grinned. He had something more to look forward to. Coming back to Hogwarts was the right decision after all!

* * *

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Draco Malfoy stumbled in the dark. His clothes were torn and was bleeding from various cuts on his skin. He rested against concrete debris and sighed deeply.

He first lost his throne. Then his power. And now his dignity.

He had barely escaped a group of beggars he had stolen bread from.

Now he was lost in the ruins of a city he once called home. All because of a fucking Potter.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. How desperately he wished this was all a nightmare and when he would wake up, he'd be back in his castle, sipping tea and throwing his family name around, wielding it like a weapon.

Instead he was still trapped in the nightmare, dying of thirst and hunger, and fighting with muggles for scraps of food because he had lost his wand.

He had dropped down to trying to befriend them and join a group to survive, but not a single filthy muggle had been willing to share. Everyone fended for themselves. Only equals formed groups and he was beneath them all. Powerless but unwilling to die.

He had discovered, in himself, the will to survive. Not because he wanted to, but just to prove he was better than Potter. And more importantly he wanted to find Daphne Greengrass and kill her with his bare hands. He knew she was alive. He felt it deep within his self. The deep desire to destroy his enemy.

A faint light in the distance, roused him from his self-pity and thoughts of murder. The cloudy sky allowed no light to shine through. The cold made it impossible to sleep. It was only for a few hours in the early morning when sleep was possible. It was the brief respite in the circle of hell.

His body went still and he crouched low. Who was it? Was it someone he could steal more food from? Did they have any water? Would they share?

He crawled like a cockroach, feeling more cracks open in his skin, as he creeped over broken steel, rocks and sand. There was no wind tonight and that made the cold bearable.

As he neared the light, he noticed five men huddled around a fire, murmuring amongst themselves. He couldn't hear so creeped closer still.

The murmuring stopped and after a heartbeat, a man called out gruffly. "I know you're there. Come out. We're not going to hurt you."

Draco felt hope. Were these friendly men? Were they willing to share?

He slowly stood up, ignoring the tremble in his knees and came closer.

"Good grief," one of them exclaimed. "You look like trounced ponce!"

The others chuckled softly. "Aye," the gruff one grunted. "Lad, you've been through quite the hell storm, haven't you? Want to join and share your story?"

"Why?" Draco croaked. His voice was hoarse for disuse. He had been lost in the desert for days before a distortion in space took him to ruined London. In London, he had met only monsters in the form of men and women. All of them filled with cruelty and a complete lack of morals. No one cared for the other and these were the first men who seemed nice.

It didn't feel right. This was Harry's world. Nothing would be right.

"Leave him be Mad Eye, he's just another one of the survivors not fit to survive. Join us kid, we got some food and if you are interested in a good death we're marching on the Goblins soon. We're out here looking for a suicide squad. Are you interested?"

Draco has been chased out of the main city. He couldn't survive in the harsh atmosphere that dominated the central parts of the city there was no mercy for weakness. He had lost hope and if fate wanted him to die fighting it was better than dying of Hunger. "Do you have enough food," asked Draco.

"If you agree to be part of the Vanguard."

Draco just nodded and then he noticed the graph men face was covered with a hood, holding a wand, loosely pointed at the Fire. He was a wizard. He moved closer and sat down on a patch of sand. He took the offered piece of bread and bit into with gusto.

Mad Eye chuckled. "You look familiar kid. What's your name?"

Draco froze. His father wasn't the most loved man in the past. He was Walpurgis Knight after all. Should he give a fake name? He decided against it. He didn't care anymore. Death was all that awaited.

"Draco Malfoy," he said and managed to inject some defiance into his voice.

"Well I'm be damned," Mad Eye grunted in surprise. "I found your father's rotting head a few days back. Didn't expect to run into the son so soon."

The others chortled. "He still had a look of shock plastered on his ugly mug."

Draco was filled with horror for a moment before it passed away and was replaced with apathy. His father's death was of his own making. May be if he hadn't chosen to grovel at the feet of another, he would still be alive. And as a consequence of that, London was war torn and he was going to be part of a kamikaze squad just so that he could avoid starving to death.

He chuckled.

"You find your old man's death funny Draco?"

"I find you funny," he said with dry humour. "You should be finding and killing Harry Potter instead of Goblins. Kill Potter. Save the World. That's the only thing that should matter. Instead of fighting the Goblins, we need to convince them to ally with us to erase Potter from this world."

There was silence.

Draco realised they weren't aware about Potter's deep connection to this hell.

"He's wearing Hogwarts robes Mad Eye," one of them observed suddenly.

"Draco," Mad Eye said softly. "Tell me everything you know."


	44. Goodbye Friend

**Goodbye** **Friend**

 _-A human bond cannot be described with written words._

 ** _Hogwarts, Time Unknown._**

Harry finally understood what those words meant when he reunited with his wand.

He gently ran his fingers along its length and felt the lonely wood thrum in resonance to his magic.

This was the instrument used by witches and wizards to connect with magic.

How they had misused it, he mused. There were a rare few like him who could connect to magic without a wand. Where had the world gone wrong? He wondered. When had they forgotten what magic really was? Did they ever understand what magic was?

Harry was discovering it on his own until he had a conversation with Luna Lovegood.

He could see a mystery in her eyes. Her colours changed languidly, in a manner, he could not read. It intrigued him.

They were in the astronomy tower. Luna had returned him his wand and was now staring at him expectantly. It seemed like she was waiting for something and Harry could not decipher what is was.

Usually the colours told him what it was but now, he had nothing. It was a first for him.

"Why are you here," he asked finally.

His voice was hoarse and soft.

"It's my home," she replied.

Home, Harry thought. It was certainly a powerful bond. The Desert had taught him it's value.

"It was home to the other's as well, until you came back," she added.

Harry scoffed. He was beginning to form an understanding of what was important and what wasn't. To him, magic was important. It was a gift and Hogwarts gave it freely. There were those who valued it and those who didn't. Those who left didn't.

"So why did they leave," he asked with mild scorn.

"The valued their lives more," Luna said.

This girl was reading him, Harry realised. How?

He could see that he had a choice. On one hand, ignore this unnerving girl, leave her to her devices and move towards finding the source. On the other, he could try and understand what Luna Lovegood saw in magic. Was she like him or could she show him a whole new perception to magic that would help him get closer to the source?

"Why did you stay?" he asked her. Those who left were not important. The one who did, was. Why was she here? What made her bond to her home so strong that she refused to abandon it even when a monster came to take it?

Luna looked into his eyes with piercing understanding.

"I stayed," she said softly. "Because I'm not afraid of you. To me, magic is all that matters. Friends make that magic stronger and I'm sad they're gone. I had a choice, magic or friends. I chose to stay and make new friends."

That's right, Harry thought. Magic was important. He was beginning to like this girl more. She was the conversation he wanted his whole life.

He had never wanted to talk. Everyone he ever met was Unworthy. Dumbledore was the only other and the old man feared him and threatened him. There was conversation waiting to happen there.

Luna Lovegood on the other hand. "Do you know what the source is?" he asked.

He turned away from her and walked to the balcony. It was post noon and the sky was bright yellow in-spite of the strange storm clouds that flew far above. He noticed the forest had grown wild. The grounds were being overrun with sprouting trees and further on, massive trees swayed in magic that exuded danger.

The colour of magic was a bloody red and it disappeared over the horizon into an abyss that was calling out to him.

"You mean the source of magic?" Luna asked as she joined him.

Harry nodded.

"My mother told me the Wrackspurt's are the key to finding them," she said, with a laugh. "She was always making up words to give names to her discoveries. Names that I could pronounce. It was a game until she died."

"Wrackspurt? What is it?"

"They are magical creatures that live around us. Affecting our minds. They seem to be chaotic around you."

Harry frowned.

"How do you see them?"

"Well, you would need Spectrespecs if you can't see them and even with those they are really hard to spot since the Spectrespecs don't work for everyone. I lost mine last year on the train ride to London and my dad has the only other piece."

"Oh." Harry became silent. He had destroyed London after all. He felt like it was not a topic to bring up. Am I feeling sympathy, he thought. It's strange. His green was pulsing and he calmed it down.

"Do you know that you're different?" he asked. "You don't see magic the way others do."

Luna chuckled. "I wish I wasn't. It'd make having friends a lot easier."

"Friends are not important," Harry said. He didn't like the concept. "Friends beneath you are definitely unimportant. You can perceive magic in a way I can't understand. I want you to make me understand."

Luna sighed.

"You can't. But I'll try."

Luna turned to leave. "I'm hungry," she said. "What about you?"

Harry's stomach rumbled with an ache he hadn't realised was there after keeping it ignored for so long.

"Sure," Harry said. "But before we go, where's my diary?"

"Not here," Luna said blandly. "Hermione must have it. She seemed really excited by it."

Time froze for a moment and Harry's blood boiled. How dare she take his Diary!

"It's no use crying over stolen belongings," Luna said with understanding in her eerie grey eyes. "If they're meant to come back. They will. And usually with an apology."

Harry's rage cooled. Luna was right. He mustn't lose sight of his quest. His goal of finding the source and execute the will of magic. He had to keep his focus.

He could not lose to madness. Not now. Not when he felt he was closing in on an answer to a question unasked.

He followed her out of the tower in silent contemplation as she quietly led him to portrait of fruits and tickled a pear.

A hole appeared in the pear as it giggled and revealed the entrance to the Hogwarts kitchen.

"Tis Miss Loony!"

Harry had never encountered a hoard of excitable house elves and for a brief moment, he was almost blinded by the glow of green and white.

These were house elves?! Harry gasped in his mind and eyes widened with curiosity.

"Whos is yous companion Miss Loony!"

"This is Harry Potter," she said with a tinkling laugh.

The elves gasped and went silent.

"The chosen one," they whispered to each other. "Tis the chosen one."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Their tone was hushed and to him, it sounded there was a prophecy involved here. He remembered Dumbledore. It had been long since he had seen the old man. He suddenly wondered why he wasn't at Hogwarts. Was he still in the desert? What about Voldemort?

Why was he thinking about them? There were links in his mind leading to a place he had never really explored. Why did he want to know what they were doing? Were they still alive?

A picture of Daphne popped into his mind. An emotion stirred.

 _Deep down, far beyond his comprehension, he was flattered by the interest Daphne had shown in him. He had wanted to befriend her, and because of his past, the very notion of that idea was masked with disgust and pain. His Green was healing._

The magic of the elves was affecting him. The moment he realised that, he tightened his hold on the void and turned to Luna.

"Chosen one?" he asked her questioningly.

Luna shrugged. "Can we get something to eat Dobby?"

"Of course, Miss Loony!"

The elves scattered and a table and two chairs appeared beside them.

It seemed to Harry, none of them were willing to answer. He thought about forcing the answer out of them but decided to be patient. They were not going anywhere.

"So, tell me," Luna said primly and sat on the chair comfortably cross legged. "Do you see it?"

Harry immediately understood and felt incredibly buoyant. "The colours of magic."

Luna nodded sagely. "Nobody else saw it," she said sadly. "And my mother died trying to see it. You're the first I've met how can see them. Do you know what they are?"

His buoyant mood fell. She could only use it. She didn't understand yet but she was trying to. Just like him. At least she was worthy.

Worthy to embark upon the same quest as him. Would she want to join him?

"I want to understand it. I want to explore it and execute it's Will. Would you want to join me?"

"Oh no," Luna gasped. "You're too destructive! And you need to end what you began by yourself."

She was right. This was his quest but rejection was never good to him. It's why he had retreated in solitude. It hurt, he realised. And pain was something he had mastered instead of feeling and releasing. He had found someone like him and she had rejected him.

"All the answers are always jumbled up at the end of the road. I find following universal directions is the fastest way to understand them."

Follow his baser instincts, in other words, he deciphered. To be the Monster needed by magic. And in order to do that he needed to do one thing in particular.

He pulled on the void and charged all his colours.

He gasped as a bundle of emotions rushed through his mind. Luna's eyes widened as magic grew strong around her.

"I'll reach you all eventually," he whispered. "But for now, you need to be quiet."

His green was sucked into itself into a tiny dense ball with thin wisps spiralling out around his cores at a controlled pace.

His mind sharpened, the pain went away, and he entertained the idea of killing Luna, painlessly of course, if she didn't want to head down his direction. It was unnecessary, the wisps of green rationalised. It would be interesting to see if she would end up at the same end as him.

"Thank you, Luna," he said softly. In her, he had found the only direction that mattered. His Gut Instinct.

And right now, it told him, he had to keep moving forward, no matter the consequences. The answer would come, but for now he had to press on, towards the unknown. For the unknown was where the clues lay hidden.

Luna leaned forward, closing the distance between them until all that they could see was each other's eyes. "To me," she whispered. "Magic is the force of miracles. That green in you will be the last hurdle to cross in your quest for a miracle. Do you understand?"

Harry could smell peppermint on her breath. Her grey eyes glowed silver as the white in her colours expanded all around them. He could feel the castle agreeing with her in secret and the wisps on green encircling his cores tightened around him briefly, giving rise to an emotion akin to desire.

"If we ever met again," Harry whispered. "I'd be interested to see what miracles you can create with Hogwarts."

He smiled and leaned back. Luna followed suite and grinned. He could be reasoned with after all! "Will you agree to being my friend Harry Potter?"

The rest of the evening went unsaid as two friends found enjoyment in each other's company in an otherwise lonely world.

By the time they were done with the delicious fruit platter the elves had made for them, the time to embark had approached and Harry had one important question to ask of the elves.

He turned to them and summoned the Void. Hogwarts grew silent as an oppressive force began to coerce the house elves. "Why did you call me the chosen one," he asked.

Luna eyed Harry sadly. This is why she could never walk down his path. This would have never been her method.

A young female elf spoke up, her voice trembling. "It is said, there will come a Wizard who shall rain untold destruction on the world. His coming will herald the rebirth of Gaea who shall only bend to the will of the Chosen one."

The elf fell silent and Harry waited for more but none said anything more. He increased the force around the elves and they all whimpered.

"Let them go," Luna said with anger. "They told you what you need to hear."

Harry let go and they all scattered back to their work with the ears flapped close to their necks.

"It's time for you to leave," she said.

Harry sighed and smiled. His methods were born from the circumstances created by a prophecy. Harry was now able to imagine the beginning of a different life he could have led. His thoughts were changing and maturing with tremendous pace.

"Goodbye Luna Lovegood," he said and stood up, feeling more refreshed than he had in years.

It was time to head into an Abyss.


	45. The Experiment

**The Experiment**

The forest was creepier than Harry remembered. In fact, he had never found anything except for Vernon creepy. Nasty old fat man who deserved what Harry gave him; Death.

His first few steps into the forest, he felt like he was being watched.

Harry stretched out with the Void but felt nothing out of the ordinary. The trees were bigger, sure. Acromantula stronger, but nothing he couldn't handle. The Centaurs were in their secret stronghold and the Vampires were far up North, holed up in their caves.

He could feel his first desert experiment burning through the centre of the forest and on the other side, he felt the stirrings of a threat.

Even with his senses so sharp, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.

It was the same feeling he got as a child for the few minutes after Vernon would leave for work. Like he was still being watched by his fat uncle.

Harry felt alive. His senses were honed and the Void was alert, looking out for danger. Even the slightest movement that he detected, the Void was around it, probing, assimilating.

He didn't make a sound as he walked through the space between the tree trucks and poisonous thorns. Not even the forest made a sound in its silent observation of a predator in its midst.

Harry's destination was fixed. The unexplored lands beyond the reach of the experiment.

The anticipation of seeing his first big experiment again after his long journey through the desert made leaving Hogwarts easier. After dinner with Luna and the elves, he felt calm.

The rage and chaos that always swirled deep down in him was changed. It was now a vision of an end. He could see it so clearly and could almost see an answer worth uncovering.

Luna was wrong in his mind. To Harry, the destination was more important than the journey.

When he finally reached, he was taken aback by it's scream.

The experiment was now a mass of turbulent sand churning and roaring as it dusted from one horizon to the other. Magic was beyond anything like he had ever seen before. The desert was strangely encased inside a reddish pink hue of swirling colour shaped like a drill bit with runes rushing downstream at a speed he could not translate.

What had the experiment turned into?

There was no wind and a step back into the forest brought silence.

The power of this - Harry thought for a word to describe it and machine came to mind - was greater than what Harry had felt when he connected to the runes in the sky.

What would happen if he stepped in?

A smile lit up his face. Now this was going to be an interesting journey. Maybe Luna was right after all. He wrapped the void around him willed to protect and stepped into the unknown.

 ** _Time Unknown, The Settlement by the Sea._**

"Good evening Mrs Barb, we have another one for a re-fitting."

"Fresh out of hell eh? That too wearing black robes? You're lucky you survived."

"We used cooling charms," Hermione said, feeling a bit offended that they were chiding her choice of colours when she was a witch.

"A waste of magic," Mrs Barb said with a tut. "Every edge you can keep counts in this world Miss. If a change in colour helps, use it." Barb's voice was weary but sharp.

"We're stuck in a sadistic game Hermione," Daphne said grimly. "Harry's game. And they only way we're getting out of it is to find him and kill him."

The flight from Hogwarts was still fresh in Hermione's memory. "You're right," she said. "We thought that too and he crushed us. He's beyond the likes of anything Daphne. Professor Dumbledore… Voldemort…, I doubt they'd stand a chance against him now."

"Calm down Hermione," Daphne said softly. "That's why right now our priority is to become strong and self-sustained. We're making a plan and weapons to help us."

Hermione frowned. What plan and weapons could they use in this desert? "You're underestimating him by far Daphne," she said tightly.

"And you're underestimating us," Daphne retorted. "When muggles and witches and wizards put their minds together, as it turns out, dangerous things can be created. No one can stand in our way with them."

"Done," said Mrs Needle and with a tap on her strange sewing type contraption - dull white robes along with perfectly measured inner wear and a head scarf popped out with a puff of smoke. "Self-cleaning and cannot be damaged easily. Welcome to our Camp Hermione Granger."

"Is that…!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Yes," Daphne interrupted. "It's based on a runic structure. This world we're in is based on it. One of our researchers who invented this machine, calls it Maya. He says we're trapped in an virtual reality and deciphering the rune code is the way to decode it and turn things back to normal."

"Like computer code?" Hermione asked incredulously. She missed the hint of sarcasm in Daphne's tone.

"Call it whatever you like, but using their methods and algorithms we have recreated the usage of magic in a way that muggles can also use. They might not have much power but ever since the Desert took over our lives, some muggles have been developing abilities."

"Alright out now," Mrs Barb interrupted before Hermione could gasp at that. "You can talk while showing her the rest of the camp."

"Thanks Mrs Barb," Daphne said warmly and ushered Hermione out.

"But I," she gestured towards her new clothes.

"You can change once you build your hut."

"Build?"

"Stop with the questions Hermione," Daphne scolded. "There's a lot you need to learn and listening usually works well for the newcomers."

Hermione soon learned that to survive in this camp, everyone had to do it themselves. A basic skill was necessary to join and those who didn't match up were sent to the far side of the camp to figure it out or die. There were volunteers from the camp who took classes for such folks, but practical application was their own headache. No one was willing to waste their resources and energy.

When they headed down to the beach, Hermione was impressed by the unique filtration system installed in a canal drawing water from the sea. It also had units where fish were attracted using more runes, structured as bait.

"The sea is continuously receding," Daphne explained. "So Arthur came up with a spell to make the canal dig by itself as the water keeps receding. The muggles helped him with the Arithmancy of the slope of the canal and what not."

"Incredible," Hermione said. She had been saying that a lot with the ways and means this camp had taken to survive. One thing was certain – all this would not have been possible with Daphne. She noticed the respect which the camp had for her.

"Not really," Daphne said grimly. "The Devil, it seems, was not satisfied with Harry's curse and chose to keep Azkaban as our neighbours."

Hermione gasped.

"We have a night patrol and our researchers are trying to create a rune shield that can protect us. It's been difficult though, because any spell that requires a lot of magic causes the sky to interfere and fuck it up.

Daphne scowled. "Harry really is a bastard," she growled bitterly.

"What happened Daphne," she asked softly. She had waited long enough to ask questions and the walk had made her realise what was the most important. "What happened at the Trial?"

Daphne closed her eyes and felt the warm salty breeze and observed the gentle roar of the sea. The beach was the only place which was easy to bear and provided a solace that their lives weren't as bad as it could be.

"I often wonder about that," she said slowly. She walked closer to the sea and sat down on the wet sand just out of reach of the receding tide.

Hermione followed suit and drew her knees up, feeling calmed by the enormous horizon.

"Harry was brought to the stand," she began. "I was down at the witness stand and once he was secured Malfoy made an announcement." Daphne paused for a moment. "He announced Lord Voldemort was the new King of Magical Britain and proclaimed it the beginning of a new era."

"Oh my god," gasped Hermione in horror. A world where the Dark Lord was King was too horrible to comprehend for a muggle born.

"I was soon called to the stand to begin my testimony of his character which was incredibly difficult to accomplish with the volume of shouting between Andromeda and the Ministry. I knew this was all posturing since the Rebellion had a plan to take over the Ministry but the shock of having Voldemort as a opponent was terrifying." Here Daphne laughed. "I guess everyone was so self-absorbed with their personal grudges that they missed the biggest fucking threat in the courtroom."

Daphne sighed and bowed her head. "I saw the Dementors feeding off him and I could see how they were affecting him. It was terrible. I wanted to say something but everything was happening so fast."

"What happened?" Hermione asked in a hush.

"Harry fought back," Daphne said quietly. She turned and looked at Hermione, her eyes reflecting sadness. "He didn't care who got caught in his curse."

Hermione kept silent. She now understood Daphne's pain and her motivation.

"I want to kill him for what he did, I really do, but do you think this is really his fault? Since the time he's been born he's been used by authority for their own purpose and selfish reasons. We saw this coming and just ignored it thinking it was too farfetched."

Hermione put her hand on Daphne's shoulder. "Do the others share your point of view?"

Daphne laughed. "I don't share it with others. You're just the second. But tell me what would you prefer – a world where we'd need to survive under the Dark Lord or a world where all we need to do is survive?"

"Well, we'd never know now would we," Hermione said with a smile.

The two friends remained silent and observed the beautiful sun set reflecting colours on the sea.

Night would soon fall and by morning the camp would be without a few souls… if they were lucky.

The desert had changed them.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _With Sirius and Snape._**

"So that over there is the camp," Sirius droned as he lazily led Snape to the camp. "You got to build your own hut and you'll be assigned to the research team to do shit. Any questions?"

"Don't tell me you're in-charge here," Snape said with a scowl.

Sirius grinned. "Don't be ridiculous. Daphne's the boss, or at least de facto boss."

Snape stared. "You're joking?"

"Na, I'm serious."

Sirius was fighting hard to keep from laughing when Snape's scowl deepened.

"Do you intend on telling me something useful or shall I go and talk to the boss?" he snarled.

"What do you want to know?"

"What happened at the Trial?" Snape asked immediately.

"Harry fucked up our plans."

"You got to be clearer than that mutt."

Sirius shrugged. "That's what happened. Bellatrix couldn't control herself and blew someone's head off. Then Voldemort attacked Harry and then…"

Here Sirius went quieter. "Something happened to Harry. I can only rationalise it as some incredible expulsion of magic out of his body. There was this heaviness in the air and within seconds the ground and air began to shake. I was transported to Diagon Alley somehow and all hell had broken loose there. Goblins and Wizards were raging. I saw Daphne in the chaos and managed to drag her away. The next thing I know, I'm running on sand with a desert to my right and an ocean to the left."

Sirius sighed. "Mind sharing what happened to you?"

"What about Dumbledore?" Snape asked. "Do you know where he is?"

"Look around Snape. Think about how you got here and then imagine if we'd be insane enough to actually think about looking. You just got to deal with this. This is what we get for playing with life of a psychopath."

"He's your godson after all."

Sirius scowled. "What happened at Hogwarts?" he asked instead of replying to that insensitive barb.

"Well, right after the tournament, we got cut off from the outside world. Anyone who left the gates never came back and there was no floo or owl's able to bring news. The children obviously became animals and making sure they didn't blow up the castle was our only job. Of course, that was before Bellatrix launched an assault on us out of nowhere and Harry turned up half dead.

"Our first assumption was the Dark Lord had taken over and Harry had escaped. Which meant taking one step out of the castle could mean instant death. But then he awoke and it was immediately obvious the boy had something to do with what was going on.

"We couldn't deal with containing him and before we could even understand what had hit us, he tore down the castle and forced us to flee or risk being slaughtered."

"Merlin," Sirius said with wide eyes. Was Harry officially completely certifiably insane and thirsting for blood?

"We were ten at the beginning when we were transported to this desert. But there were these distortions and everyone kept disappearing until it was just Granger and me. We kept close and were lucky to find vultures, lizards and snakes. We came across some villages that were occupied by local gangs. Barely got out of those alive after stealing their food stock. Water was harder to come by but we came across a few small oases. We couldn't stay there for long because the night attracted strange creatures to them; carnivorous ones. Probably escaped from the Ministry."

"So basically, there's nothing left and nowhere to run," Sirius summarized. "Do you plan on staying?"

"I need to find Albus," Snape said. "He's the only one who can save us. Maybe if I find the Dark Lord, he might have some ideas too."

Sirius barked a laugh. "They can't help us. But you can contribute here. The Dark Arts are a big hit with the muggles you know."

Snape scoffed. "I'll stay for a few days but then I'm leaving. At least I try to find my way to London to start with. I can't give up on him. Not after all he has done for me."

Sirius sighed. "Well, if you're hell bent on it, then you should talk to Arthur. They think they can navigate through the desert with this weird thing they invented, however their volunteers are yet to come back."

Snape nodded. "I guess this is goodbye than Black."

Sirius began to say something but then changed his mind. Instead he stuck out his hand and looked Snape in the eye. "If we ever meet again. Let's have a drink."

"To survival," Snape said and for the first time in decades, he shook the hand of a man he once hated without animosity.

The Desert had changed him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _Time Unknown, Ruined London._**

His name was once Tom Marvolo Riddle. His ego had changed it to Lord Voldemort. His magical power had almost made him take control of an entire country by force and subterfuge and _just_ before his moment of glory, he lost everything.

After a desperate battle with his archenemy, in a land born from the one prophesied to defeat him, he was no one.

Tom struggled to his feet and massaged the stump of his missing arm. Thank Merlin it had been his right and not his wand hand that had been torn apart in their final encounter. He had no idea what happened to Dumbledore. The explosion had hurled him far and right through a distortion.

Now, after days of crawling through the desert with death hot on his heels, he had managed to make his way to civilization. He had never felt more relived in his life to be able to interact with human beings again.

The Desert had changed him.

He stood up shakily and slid down the sand dune towards the ruined concrete buildings.

He was weak. He needed to lay low and regain his strength. He needed to rebuild his self and find purpose. Everything he had worked for. Everything he had dreamed. All his plans for revenge and playing politics at the highest level were gone. There was no one left to fear him. No one to manipulate for his amusement. It was worse than being lost as a spirit. At least then, he knew there was a way back.

A new world order had taken control. This was Harry's world and the best way to navigate it was to first find a foundation. Then to understand the rules of this world and to finally conquer it.

Until that happened, he was just another lost soul swimming in the sands of magic trying to find a reason, an explanation to the fate that had befallen him.

But now, after being torn down to the shreds and surviving an epic encounter with his arch enemy, an encounter that he had secretly dreamed about for years; he finally understood this fate was not the work of Harry Potter. There was a larger force at work, this was a result of a subtle game of magic. It's root lay in prophecies, which were nothing but miraculous prediction of the future based on an interaction with magic at a level no one really understood, and whose translations could manipulate entire generations.

For a long time, deep down, he had believed himself to be the messiah, the one destined to lead the magical world into a new era of glory, free of oppression from those who would scorn them. Restored to their position at the top of the food chain.

But now, he understood that was his ego talking, not his magic. Together, his ego and magic had taken him down the path of becoming a Dark Lord, but now, after his ego was crushed by the desert. He understood what his magic had always told him; to be free from the influence of human irrationality and focus on the true quest. The quest to find the source.

As he silently walked into one of the sturdier buildings, he remembered the last time he had entertained pursuing that ridiculous myth. The source of magic, a well of infinite power. All his travels had led to nothing and it hadn't taken long to dismiss the existence of any source. Magic was everywhere. It was like the wind, except, nature only chose a few to be able to use it.

He was wrong. There was a source, there had to be. He could feel it in this desert, now that he had the chance to lie down and think. Could it be that Harry Potter was pursuing the source and managed to draw the power to unleash such an epic curse over an entire country, perhaps the world?!

"Harry Potter," he murmured. There was no winning against him. Not yet anyway.

He had to think. He had to rebuild. What was he now?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _Time Unknown, The Battle for Gringotts._**

In another part of London, at the frontline of the assault on Gringotts, Draco Malfoy was in a situation that begged the question to be asked; what the fuck was he doing?

He was wearing a jacket that was designed to explode upon contact with the wards of Gringotts. This was the end of the line for him.

The full force of the rebellion was going to descend on Gringotts and Draco's job was to sneak through and hurl himself at the walls. He was the main course of the attack, everything else was just a distraction.

He chose to go out this way, instead of dying like a starved rabid dog on the streets of London. At least he would be remembered if the rebellion won this battle.

"You doing okay there buddy?"

"Sure," Draco muttered.

"It's going to be okay. We're all going to be heroes after this. One way or another. We're doing this for the survival of mankind."

Draco scoffed in his mind. They were doing this because there was nothing else to do.

"I think I'm gay," Draco said suddenly.

His companion shrugged. "Is this your coming out of the closet kind of thing? Being this close to death and all?"

"I just… wanted to tell someone about it that's all. Back in school, there was an image that had to be maintained, you know? I was to be a prince and get married to a queen and even whispering this to the walls could have ruined my reputation. But instead," Draco trailed off. "I don't know if I'm gay but sometimes, my heart would race if I saw an attractive man. Does it mean I'm gay?"

"It means you saw something attractive in that man, that's all. Did you feel any sexual energy in you?"

Draco laughed. "I was too young, I don't know."

"Well what about now? Am I turning you on?"

"Fuck off, mate. Everyone's ugly in this shit world. Even me."

Footsteps sounded at the entrance to his bunker and Mad Eye Moody barged in. "What's with the noise? I told you to keep it down!" he hissed. "Who are you talking to?"

There was no one but him in the bunker.

"No one," Draco muttered with a scowl.

"Well okay. Keep it down and don't forget the plan. The moment we give the signal, you make a dash for the walls and fling the package at the walls. Just before impact, you have to click the button. Remember, you got to be as close as possible or else it won't work. And if you fall before you can reach, you press the button anyway. Is that clear?"

Draco kept silent. He had no intention of flinging anything. This was his last stand and he was going to go out his way. This was his freedom.

Moody walked out from the reinforced bunk and surveyed their barricade of Gringotts. It had been a tough battle. The loss of life was historic, but they had managed to force the battle Goblins back into Gringotts and now the only way to complete their victory was tear down it's walls.

There was no moon tonight and the weather was sedate. It was almost prophetic. Taking Gringotts would mean they would get resources and shelter. It would allow them to gather together and work to reverse what happened on the day of the trial. No one had really found the time to reflect on that day. It had been the survival of the fittest since.

Moody had lost count of how many people had died in front of him since. Either by his wand or in his arms.

In the centre of the circular barricade was Gringotts. A gleaming white dome that was littered with the dead bodies of humans and goblins. It was this circle of death that now separated the goblins and humans. Along the outer edge, men and women were using fire guns and wands to burn the dead to ash so that they could charge easier.

This was their seventh attempt to breach the walls and this time they were armed to the teeth with explosive magic and weapons.

He circled to command central. "Is everyone ready?"

Their silence was answer enough. They were out of supplies. Food and water was all but gone expect for their personal hidden hoardings. It was now or certain death.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _Time Unknown, Location Unknown._**

Inside the strange experimental desert where matter and time were no longer constants, Harry took a breath of deep awe.

He had not expected to return here. Why was he here? What was he seeing?

"Are you ready to tell me who are you, child?"

Shock froze all of Harry's senses.


	46. The Other Side

**The Other Side**

 _ **Time Unknown**_

"Please," Harry whimpered.

Night was coming and the man was eating calmly, not bothered by Harry's pleas. Creatures of the night stayed away. They could feel the pain of the boy's magic and were scared away by its nature.

"Please," Harry begged. "Please," he whispered through tear stained eyes.

Exhaustion stretched his mind thin.

"Please," he cried.

And then he lost consciousness.

Harry stared at his unconscious younger self in complete bewilderment. This was the forest where he killed Sirius's friend. The werewolf, and in front of him was the man who had caused him the most pain he had ever felt. Since this night, he had been set down a path on which by no control of his own, his green played chaos with his emotions. In a way, everything that had happened since this night had been because of his green. His Pain.

And now, after all these years, it felt calm. It was a part of him and he was a part of it.

The man was exactly how Harry remembered, his hair - brown and matted. Eyes - a curious brown and his pale skin was wrinkled in places over his thin body. He was wearing an orange sheet carelessly wrapped around his waist and was looking at Harry with amusement.

"Are you ready to tell me who are you, child?"

Harry goggled.

The man put down his bowl. "Sit," he said.

Was this real? Was he actually there? Was this some kind of illusion magic had cast upon him? He fiercely tried to expel any external influence on his senses but nothing happened.

The fire crackled, roused by his power, and the full moon light shone bright through the gaps in the thick canopy of rustling leaves.

He had to calm himself. There only two explanations: either time and space was being manipulated - a feat, he had imagined vaguely possible through his study of the language of magic but never really given it much thought as his intention was to strip humanity down to its core instinct and learn what they would do. It was either that or magic was manipulating his senses with the intent to communicate.

He calmed himself and carefully side stepped his now unconscious feeble younger self. A chair materialised in front of the man and Harry took seat, looking at the man in his deep mysterious eyes.

"Why am I here?" Harry asked slowly. The key to unravelling a spell or curse was to first understand its Will.

"You are the one in control. You called out to me."

Harry glanced at crazy Harry. He was out cold but Harry remembered the emotional chaos that had engulfed him this night.

"Who are you?"

"A Guide."

Harry observed him in silence; trying to make sense of the man's colours and the guide patiently waited. "Subconsciously I called out to you to guide me to the source?" It was the only thing that made sense. The setting chosen was just bizarre.

"What's the source?" asked the Guide curiously.

Harry stared. This Guide did not even know what he wanted? This was making lesser sense by the second. But he had to be patient. There was an answer here somewhere. He just had to be patient.

"The source," Harry said, taking a brief moment to articulate his thoughts, "is where the Void comes from," Harry said calmly. "It is the heart of my existence and I want to perceive it, untainted by the perception of an unworthy human society."

"The Void?" His voice was a deep vibration. Harry felt like he was hearing with the Void and not his ears. He could feel the words deep within magic. He could feel the innocence in the question. The Guide was not mocking him. He truly did not know nor yet, understand.

"The society I grew up in believes it is a curse. The society I was educated by believes it is a miracle, and they are the chosen ones gifted to manipulate it. I believe it is a language nobody truly understands. A language with a deeper meaning of life and death. It can only be truly perceived when I shed the limitation of emotion." Suddenly, Harry realised something important. "And you are the one who forced them upon me, derailing me from my goal by making me accept a part of me that serves no purpose!" Harry was getting heated. The faint desire to kill smouldered in the Void.

"You have a deep connection with the Void. I can see it. _And_ you touched the Void within me and manipulated it. Of course I believe you have answers and I will get them one way or another."

There was unbendable iron in Harry's voice. The Void roared in agreement within him and the darkness around them glowed within the fire. Harry and the Void were one.

The Guide smiled. "I see. You're on the path and you want to see the end. Tell me child, do you really want to see the end? Don't you want to explore the meaning of existence before you reach the end?"

"I started something. Something amazing and I want to see where it leads."

"Don't be in a rush," he chided.

"Can you help me or not? Am I here for a reason or am I just wasting time?"

The guide laughed. "Are you talking about time when your younger self is right next to you? Time is an illusion child. The Universe is timeless and boundless. Let that be my advice to you since that's what you came here for."

"How is that going to help me find the source?"

"Well maybe the source that you're obsessed with is an illusion too. The reason why you're here, in my perception, is that you want to understand why I unblocked your Anahata and to help you define what it means. So why don't you stop posturing and tell me what you really want to say."

Anger boiled within the Void. Harry wanted to crush the man to near death and make him tell what he wanted to know.

Patience. Don't loose control.

"That's right," said the Guide. "Control is important. Without knowing control, we cannot perceive our form and energy. The scale of your control defines who you are. Your green was almost dead and I felt it was shame to let a form of consciousness with so much potential waste it without control. You seem to have learnt it."

"How did…?" Sense no longer held meaning.

"If you travel as long as I have, you might understand. You seem to be on the right track so don't loose control."

Did the guide know about the amount of death and destruction he had caused?

"You've understanding your conscience as well. Marvellous!"

The Guide seemed excited and suddenly, Harry realised there was a growing distance between them.

"No one can make you accept anything you don't want child. If you have accepted something, then there is a purpose. Perhaps we'll meet again and you can tell me about it."

Harry stood up to catch the man with the Void but the world began to distort. "Wait!" he shouted and ran forward only to trip on a root and fall flat on his face.

He pulled himself up quick and looked around wildly. The Guide was gone and he was in an unfamiliar forest. It was still night and the moon still brilliantly full.

This forest was missing the mighty presence of the enchanted forest and the trees had more gaps between them. It was easier to walk. The thinner foliage also made it easier to see.

Harry felt frustrated. The answer had slipped away again. He wanted to scream. Where the fuck was he?!

A faint sound caught his ear and the Void sharpened. There were people close by.

He began to feel an invisible presence all around him. He heard birds and felt a cool breeze even though there wasn't one. Was this an illusion? He felt his arms brushing against soft leaves and now it was like he was walking barefoot on moist earth. This was very strange. He could not sense anything different about this seemingly normal forest.

He heard the sound again and crouched low. He had to be careful. There was definitely some kind of magic at work here and he could see a faint pink hue in it. It was no threat to him but after his encounter with the Guide, Harry felt the need to take a few moments to contemplate an action before acting on it.

The Void masked his presence and turned him invisible as he walked towards the sound.

He heard moaning. Female. And lots of grunts. Male.

The Orange in him burned. It was a different feeling. A familiar sensation. One that felt like forbidden pleasure.

He reached a clearing and saw the pale flesh of the back of a woman gently rocking on a dark skinned man pined below her. Both were moaning and gasping.

Harry knew what was happening. He had read about it and dismissed it as juvenile. Something that served no purpose. But now, seeing the act with his own eyes. Feeling the power of their orange, their passion in the void… it made him feel... he felt good. His pulse raced and a naughty smile darkened his features.

The memory of slicing Aunt Petunia from ear to ear and feeling her warm blood sent tingles down his spine.

"Give me life," the pale blonde woman whispered to the man. She rocked on his cock with strong gyrating motions and grabbed his neck.

"It's yours!" the man groaned, his hands around her waist, slapping and groping. The sounds reverberated in Harry's mind. He was frozen. Unable to take his eyes away from the sexually charged scene.

Harry didn't realise the magic was affecting him. He didn't realise the Void was resonating with the woman's and become sedate, seduced… until he felt a pulse of malevolence rise deep within her. The man stiffed and the woman giggled.

Her voice cut through the illusion of pleasure that had seduced him and was revealed to be vicious and greedy.

Harry, then, with wide shocked eyes, watched - as the man began to scream as his life energy was sucked into her through their union.

Within seconds he turned into a husk of a human being. Silence reined for a moment as the woman consumed the man's life force, making hers more vibrant, more powerful.

"Yummy," she laughed and stood up. Her voice was musical again.

Panic, raced through Harry's blood, like a river of ice. The woman was a succubus. These creatures always featured in the first few chapters of dark magic. Sexual predators who hunted in a pack. Suddenly, the strangeness of the magic around him made sense.

He had walked into a trap.

"Did you enjoy watching young man?" A hand slid over his shoulder and sexual energy clouded his senses. He felt his knees go weak. He desperately wanted to turn around and bath in the beauty he knew was behind him. He wanted to run his hands over her naked body and drown in what he knew was the ultimate pleasure.

"Of course," he breathed.

His eyes were unfocused. The naked woman in front of him was joined by three others, wearing white robes. All of them were blonde and strikingly beautiful.

"Oh my… do you smell him, sister?! He is absolutely delicious!"

Harry's eyes clouded with desire and he began to grin as the woman began to trail her hands down his chest, towards his pants.

"You could feed us for months," she whispered in his ear. "Wouldn't you love that?" Her hands slipped past his shirt and touched the bare skin of his abdomen.

Harry knew he was about to lose control. CONTROL! The Guide's mocking voice echoed through his mind and as if, woken up from a deep slumber, Fear struck his green and with a scream of rage, the Void broke-free of the spell being weaved over him.

Rage became his emotion. He was being seduced. He was being manipulated. "Back away!" he hissed and the Void lashed out, punching all the succubi around him away from him.

The Succubi felt their magic shatter and they began to hiss in fury and begin to transform into demonic avian creatures.

Battle lines were being drawn. The situation was manageable now. Harry smiled and changed his stance to one of preparedness. An instinct driven fight was easier to manage than one of seduction but Harry knew the dark power of succubi was nothing to smile about. It was that paradox that made him smile even more. Would they be a match for him? How worthy were they of the magic that the source has bestowed to them?

"Stop!"

A shrill whistle followed and cracked through the forest like a molten knife resting on butter.

That magic…. Harry knew it well even if the encounter had been a short one. The succubi uncharacteristically backed away and changed back into their beautiful human forms.

Bellatrix Black cackled with amusement. "He'd slaughter you all like silly flies you idiots. That's Harry Potter."

One of the succubi gasped. "The Crazy One? The one Fleur told us about? Oh my!"

Harry tuned them out, the books also said when the succubi were not hungry they were incredible gossipers. He turned his attention to the Lady from Hogwarts. The situation had taken a dangerous turn. For a moment, a feeling of exasperation hit him. He just wanted a bit of alone time to digest his encounter with the guide and instead he had walked into a Veela Nest which happened to be playing host to a very dangerous woman whose favourite weapon was sexual teasing.

Control, he thought to himself calmly. Don't loose control. "You," he breathed coolly. His mind clear of all the foreign influences, he finally saw his surroundings the way it was.

He was at the edge of a misty village. There were four succubus near the tree line next to a dead man and symmetrical brick buildings went in and out of sight through the moon light shining in the mist.

The Lady was looking much better than the last he had seen of her. She had lost her haggard features, her hair was rested in cleaner curls and she was wearing leather pants and a printless shirt. Her eyes were wild and magic powerful.

She folded her arms and tilted her head with a curious expression wondering what to do. This was the kid who had fucked over a man she had believed was the strongest out there. What was his purpose?

"My names Bellatrix Black," she huffed lightly. "Let's talk." Diplomacy was a perfectly reasonable option.

She turned her back to him and began to walk towards the village but Harry didn't move. She paused and turned back with a frown. "You got something better to do?"

Harry did want to talk. The desire yearned within him like never before.

Bellatrix noticed and giggled. "Oh I see it," she whispered. "You're on a path aren't you?"

"What do you know about it?"

"There's a bar further in. I'm going to need whiskey for this."


	47. The Badlands

_**An abstract of Aura.**_

 _Red – Power, Security, Jealousy._

 _Orange – Pleasure, Appreciation, Comfort._

 _Yellow – Status, Authority._

 _Green – Love, Compassion._

 _Blue – Knowledge, Influence._

 _Violet – Clairvoyance, Unification._

 _Unknown – What is enlightenment?_

 **The Badlands**

 ** _Time Unknown_**

Tonks was the first time he had got a hint of what sexual pleasure felt like. The murder. Her soft skin. Her terrified eyes. That night had later compelled him to read about sex. He understood it's pleasure was rooted in orange. He observed how it played in the colours of others and filed it all at the back of his mind.

All that he had learnt was coming back to him. This place was flooded with orange and Harry could feel the magic around him steer him towards a form of sexual pleasure.

He controlled it.

The succubi melted into the background and Harry followed Bellatrix to a nearby pristine white three storey building which had a wondrous positive energy and through its springy door into a messy club that was in the stages of closing for the night. Yellow light dominated the space and Bellatrix led Harry through the tables with broken glass and dead men to the bar behind which a familiar woman was cleaning up.

He remembered her from Hogwarts but didn't know her name, just that she had been in Hufflepuff.

She looked at Harry with a lingering gaze and turned to Bellatrix without comment. "Shall I turn on the jukebox?" she asked Bellatrix.

They sat at the bar and Bellatrix smiled at the girl. "Keep it mellow darling. The night's just about maturing."

Harry looked around and frowned. Was the bar opening or closing? It felt like sunrise was close by. He could see the subtle changes in the layers of magic around him. He slid on to the black leather bar stool and wondered what he should drink. Alcohol was something he hadn't really experimented with and with the vast options available at present, he didn't want to miss the chance. Having crazy for company was an added bonus. He might as well have fun until the time came to kill them and move on.

There was some sort of runic structure that protected the village. Harry had noticed it when they walked into the bar. He let the magic soak in. Yes… he could feel it. The runes told him there was a shield in place to keep things out … or in, he wasn't sure. The dialect of the magic felt older than anything he had encountered so far.

"What will you have?"

It was the bargirl. She was looking at Harry with indifferent eyes. It was a facade. Harry could see her colours. She was scared and her survival instincts had given her the strength to maintain a mask of calm indifference.

Harry grinned. It was a good application of emotional control. "Beer," Harry said after a moment's thought. His Uncle had loved beer. Beer was usually the drink that led to a great beating. Maybe now he'd understand what frame of mind his dead uncle was in under the influence of beer.

"Whiskey for me, Sweetheart."

"Do you understand what place this is?" Bellatrix asked Harry. "You're done probing aren't you?"

"It's a Succubi's Nest."

The drinks arrived and Bellatrix downed her's in a shot. Harry took a slow sip through the thick foam and winced at the taste of bitter yeast. He decided he liked it.

"Wrong. This is not just a nest. This, is an island, hidden within reality, where those who are within the reach of the furthest reaches of magic and mystery, sit back, relax before the final stretch of the journey. For people like me, it's a heaven. A place to revel without limit in the realms of pleasure before heading back into the chaos of reality."

Bellatrix leaned into Harry with a provocative grin and touched his thigh. "This is a place where forbidden pleasure is not forbidden," she whispered.

Harry watched her eyes glitter with mischief as he felt her fingers slide into his thighs and travel up. He calmly caught her wrist and firmly placed it on the wood table before she could reach his balls.

Bellatrix scowled. She didn't like rejection. She killed anyone who resisted her. She had always hated it and now, hated it even more, knowing that the boy in front of her could hold his own against her. Deep inside her, her pulse quickened. She was getting excited. This could be fun!

"Has it got a name?" he asked. Names were important. Names written with Magic had significance.

Bellatrix leaned back and grinned. She soaked in the soft psychedelic pulses of the bass and calmed herself. "This is Avalon; the entrance of the Badland, Harry. It's the so to speak entrance to the final sprint for those on the quest to find the source."

"What do you know about it? The Source." The name Avalon stuck in his mind and began to pull knowledge about it. It was supposedly a mystical island in Arthurian Legend. The Badlands drew no knowledge at all and that piqued his interest in this place he had ended up in after going through the heart of his desert.

Bellatrix called for another shot and two beautiful women, again, wearing white robes walked in and with light claps of their hands, began to repair the damages to the bar.

"Just as the name say's, it's the source of magic and legend say's the way to get to it is through a rip in space time made using magic that is sharp enough to make the cut." Her eyes flickered to her waist and Harry saw it. The Sword Bellatrix had stolen from Hitomi. Was Bellatrix after the source too?

"That?" Harry asked with slight interest. Talking with Bellatrix for a few minutes had given him more information that a lifetime's worth through Dumbledore or blindly hunting in the library.

Bellatrix didn't reply and instead leaned back and glanced around the bar, checking out the spike in activity. The Club was reopening.

"So the Badland is where the Source can be found," Harry summarised. His path had become surprisingly clear. It felt like he had already travelled through space time. This place was in a different dimension within reality. It literally was a gateway and Harry had to find the right exit. His excitement grew, he was close. He could feel it.

Bellatrix giggled. She saw the wheels turning behind his eyes. "Don't underestimate the Badlands. No one has returned feeling victorious. It is an Journey without an end, without answers. Just more questions. It's been thousands of years since the quest of the Source began and no one has found an answer. It's accepted that the Source is just a myth."

Harry frowned. He didn't believe it. The Source was real. He had felt it.

"That's why this little village is pleasure central. It's one of the last hidden mysteries of magic, the furthest point we have reached in the quest for the source and here, we celebrate it. Beyond this point, is just barren lands full of pointless mysteries and strange creatures. The novelty wears off after sometime and playing with the real world becomes more fun. This village sits on the pinnacle of the magical scale."

Harry sighed. "So you don't actually know anything." But she had said enough for him to make a hypothesis. Beyond this village, magic was strong. Strong enough to make the most powerful magical creatures admit defeat and return to the material world. The journey was not material. It was metaphysical. He had to understand what magic was saying. Conversing with it was the only way forward and right now, he understood the reason he was here. It stood out clearly. He had to converse with his orange. He had to release it in order to rise closer to the source. Sexual energy had never been a topic he had taken seriously until today.

"Oh boy," Bellatrix chuckled. "I can see the pattern of your thinking. You don't believe me. You're thinking the way to the source is not about power but it's also about the perspectives of the mind."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not the smartest in this place. The most brilliant minds of the world have reached this point, gone forward and come back, not with immeasurable power, but with wiser goals or as ghosts."

"You think the Source is Power?" Understanding dawned on Harry. She didn't understand the significance of this place.. this village. Should he explain? Show her how wrong she is? This was a place to shed the latent desire of the soul's sexual centre. Here it was possible to fulfill the desire of the orange in order to move forward undistracted with complete focus.

"Why else would every dark lord in existence have pursued it?" she joked with a snort. "Bring me some of the good stuff now hun!" she called out to the bargirl.

Light streamed in through the curtains and warmed the air inside. More people were entering the club. A breakfast buffet had been set up on the emptier side of the room. Young girls dressed like maids were now serving and cleaning. Activity inside the club had picked up pace.

"The Source is truth, not power," Harry said softly. She might not understand it, but he had to say it.

Bellatrix choked on her drink. She swallowed with a wince and then burst out laughing.

"What?" Harry asked with a scowl. He didn't like being laughed at. It pissed him off.

"You're a truth seeker? You're after enlightenment and all that crap? No fucking way! Not after what you did just to avoid persecution! It's the most beautiful magic of destruction I have ever seen! Truth seekers preserve life Harry, they don't end millions of them for their own reasons."

Harry went silent. She was halfway right. Maybe he didn't need to explain.

"Or," she continued. "You're on the path seeking to understand what purpose the source serves?"

He didn't answer. She didn't need to know. He already understood the purpose. It was a question of accomplishing the purpose. The means of accomplishing it was what he was after. Finding his way to the village was one of those means. "Can you see magic?" he asked. It was time to change topic. Some things were best left unsaid.

Bellatrix turned her palm up and let purple lightening crackle between the tips of her fingers. Harry read the intent to utterly shred in them. Bellatrix was powerful. She had a deep connection to magic.

"Does that answer your question?"

"It tells me you like to cut things and you're good at it."

"Ha! That's the nature of my magic. Everyone has one nature they are inclined towards. What matters the mastery of that nature. I'm impressed you can read it so well. Voldemort was good at it too, until you bitch slapped him and trapped us in a desert whose sole purpose is mind fucking games. Though, I'll admit, all those idiots pulling the string had this coming to them. The world was always just one step away from an apocalypse. You successfully managed to tip the scales." She giggled. "If you wanted, you could turn Dark Lord, round up a bunch of followers, create your own harem and live the rest of your life in utter bliss."

Bellatrix was still standing on the concepts of sides, Harry thought. She wanted constant pleasure on her own terms and to her those terms could have been possible only under a magical world ruled by a Dark Lord. Now, she felt no animosity toward him because she had found sanity in the desert and create her own terms of existence.

"Heh." Harry couldn't help up smiling. He looked into her purple eyes; reddened with alcohol and alive with the desire to live free no matter the consequences. She was powerful enough to do that too. She definitely was Worthy of Magic.

Bellatrix sighed longingly. "The things you could do with that power of yours, whatever it is, makes me quite wet." She smiled wickedly and glanced down. "I could teach you so many ways of using it."

Harry felt her orange burn with lust and felt his reaching out… wanting… desiring. He controlled it and contemplated the woman in front of him. He knew he had to let it go at some point in order to evolve further. The knowledge that came with it was not something that could be told. It had to be experienced. That's what this village was about. For some reason, it was crucial in order to move forward.

"After you activated your curse, more entrances to the island opened. People unknowingly find their way here and the scuccbi and the others have been feasting. Magic is growing stronger and spreading faster than ever before. You might have actually tipped the scale of balance of this planet. You've made magic dominant no longer to remain latent."

"So you _can_ understand it," Harry muttered. "My intent was to reveal the shallow nature of humanity and show it the true depth of the gift bestowed on them."

"You were disgusted with the way they taught magic," Bellatrix summarised. She snorted. "Hogwarts has churned out more than a few dark lords because of their view on magic and they way the teach it."

"Magic is so much more," Harry continued. A little passion entered his voice. "The things we can do. The knowledge we can perceive. Haven't you ever wondered why we were given these abilities?"

His glass was empty. He was feeling a buzz in his head.

"Oh I do," Bellatrix drawled. She gestured at the bargirl to refill Harry's glass. "I remember when I was your age." She paused. "How old are you anyway? You look hmm seventeen?"

For a moment Harry was speechless. How old he was? He had stopped counting after eleven. Using time as a scale of measurement for life always felt pointless to him. "I …"

"Wow," Bellatrix said, bemused. "Show me your finger. I need to draw blood."

Harry offered without resistance. He didn't sense malice. They were not enemies. Not that they ever truly were. It was just a perception of society that decided it.

She tapped her wand on the tip of his index finger and a dot of blood dripped out. A short jab of her wand twisted the blood into a language. Harry could not understand it right off the bat but he was sure it was magic.

"Sixteen eh?" she muttered. "Close enough."

Harry took a moment to process that. Had it really been that long since the desert was created? The last he remembered he was twelve. Had four years really gone? Or was time just variable and not a constant as humanity believed?

She twisted her wand over the words and it changed into a date.

 _ **First of September, Nineteen Ninety Six.**_

Bellatrix giggled. "I used to love that date. It meant freedom from stupid rules, ethics and morals. Did you destroy Hogwarts?"

An image of a serene Luna skipping through the castle came to him with vivid clarity.

"Yes," he lied. "It's nothing more than a pile of rubble now. It's unfortunate they chose to attack me instead of just letting me go."

Bellatrix sighed deeply. "I think I'll go to bed," she announced. It's been a long night and it was long before you showed up. Goodbye Harry Potter. If you regain your senses and decide to rule the world instead of destroying it, remember me." Bellatrix cackled.

Her chair screeched as she pushed it away and with a giggle and a salute, she swayed away towards the back of the bar where a staircase lay hidden in the shadows.

Harry sat there in silence for sometime, sipping his beer and listening to the music. He was oddly feeling satisfied. Content. This was a good place. He could see it now. Only those who were Worthy of Magic could make it here and here did they indulge in their baser sexual instincts. The only question was how many of them knew the magic of this place was responsible for the desire they felt.

"Can I get you another?" It was the bargirl.

Harry assessed her. Would he want to seduce her? She was pretty. He could manipulate her colours easily enough. It wouldn't be hard at all. He tilted his head and saw fear rise in her. He probably wasn't the only one to have thought about seducing her. She had gone through this before. She was the favourite target, the bargirl.

He looked into her frightened eyes and laughed. "No thanks. I need a room."

She looked relieved. "We're full, but there's a hotel down left with some vacancies."

Harry stared at her for a few mores seconds, not particularly thinking of anything, but it served to make the girl start to sweat.

"Thanks," he said and slid off the chair. He headed towards the open entrance which was now bright with light and stepped into the streets of Avalon.


	48. Decisions

**Decisions**

 _ **First September, Nineteen Ninety Six, Avalon.**_

"Thanks," he said and slid off the chair. He headed towards the open entrance which was now bright with light and stepped into the streets of Avalon.

It was busier than he expected.

The fog had cleared and the sun shone through a clear blue sky. The roads were extensive and buildings of all forms are architecture neatly lined up on either side disappearing through the horizons. He looked at the sun and then at the one side that was the start of the forest. The forest lay South. Did it matter? he wondered.

Symmetry felt important in the magic of Avalon. He deduced the entrance to the Badlands must be North.

He walked past the Tibetan Monastery, across a Shiva Temple and under the arching stone building with the name Armistice Keep engraved in big bold letters above the metal entrance.

There were dozens of strangely dressed folk walking in and out of all the structures he could see. He saw the Succubi mingling in the sparse crowd, looking for prey.

All of them radiated immense power. The Monks, the Pandits, the Swordsmen, the Shinto Priests; all dressed in traditional robes, keeping to themselves but creating an aura of caution around them.

They were all here for a purpose, Harry realised. And it definitely had something to do with the Badlands.

His excitement grew and he stopped in front of a grey building named Dany's Hotel. It had no windows that he could see and just a single metal door in its raw form that radiated with words of rules and punishment.

He didn't feel like resting, he wanted to explore. But his body chose that moment to force a yawn and he decided it was wiser to be completely rested.

It had been a long journey so far. Almost four years long, he now realised. The length of it was hitting him now. He needed a calm before the final storm.

* * *

 _ **Time Unknown, Gringotts.**_

Deep within Gringotts, an ancient secret was kept. Known only to those with Goblin blood and sworn to secrecy bound by magic.

It was a mysterious cavern in the oldest sections of the Gringotts tunnels easily spanning ten Quidditch fields wide and fifty fields high. A small opening in the stone lay at the bottom of the chamber with rail tracks peeking out.

The walls were peppered with glowing runes that bathed the cavern in white light.

This was where the Warrior Goblins regenerated after death. This was the secret behind the long age of their leaders and champions. And abnormal numbers.

Half breeds were forbidden from learning these secrets but there was one who conquered all and did.

Filius Flitwick felt his consciousness return as his body reformed in the centre of the chamber.

Life returned to him with a deep gasp and heavy, mind numbing, breathing.

He felt himself fall on the stone floor and rolled onto his back with a groan.

The memory of almost dying was fresh. He almost hadn't activated the rebirth enchantment in time.

He slowly stood up, stretched his short limbs and cracked his neck with a grimace. He had never imagined he would return to this hell and didn't waste any time heading to the exit. He had to return to Hogwarts. He prayed it wasn't too late.

He tiredly walked to the rails were a cart was waiting for him and climbed in with a deep sigh. The other side was going to be one battle challenge after the other. Such was the way Goblins who regenerated in the cavern were greeted. They had to prove their worth for being granted a next life.

To his surprise once past the narrow dark tunnel, the hundreds of tunnels leading away from the small station were empty. All the weapons were gone too.

Dread grew in him.

There was only one reason all the battle Goblins would rise to the surface. A war for existence was underway.

Flitwick mentally guided the cart to the weapons room some three clicks through dozens of tunnels rising up and was thankful to see that the stash was not completely depleted. He picked out a robe and a dagger. His magic was still recovering but it wasn't gone to an extent where he could no longer fight.

The time had come. He had to choose a side.

* * *

 _ **Time Unknown, London**_

Tom Riddle, clad in a brown trench coat jacket stolen from a fresh starved corpse he had come across, walked through the burning sands of London under a scorching sun towards the sounds of battle.

He could here the screams, clanging of weapons and explosions.

He climbed over high ground and inhaled sharply at the breath taking sight before him.

The white dome of Gringotts had majestically opened into levels of levitating circular barriers under the bright blue sky, streaked with strange distortions of colours winking in and out of reality... or was it all a fantasy? From behind the smooth white walls floating high, countless of Goblins, clad in armour were using their weapons to bombard the few hundred remaining humans surrounding the Bank they believed was their salvation.

A small section of the lower level wall was broken and a fierce battle between muggles with machine guns and axe wielding goblins was raging.

It looked like a pile of bodies rushing toward it with death riding beside them.

Voldemort wondered if he should join the battle and turn the tide.

His magic had strengthened and he still had his wand. It was all he needed.

The circle of wizards at the back of the squads of men and women did their best to shield the fighters from the bombardment but their efforts were failing.

The dead were everywhere. It's stench couldn't go unnoticed even with spells.

Voldemort smiled. He hated Goblins. This would be his sweet revenge.

He raised his remaining arm with wand held firm and began to chant in the ancient tongue of Avalon. Necromancy was his forte and he remembered having recurrent dreams in his youth of razing Gringotts to the ground with an army of inferi.

Ironically, he owed his dreams coming true, to Harry Potter. The boy who had stripped them all away. Battling Dumbledore had filled him with a thrill he had forgotten.

A chill began to rise from the dead. The living noticed. Goblins and Humans, both pulled back their lust for battle and death.

The bodies began to twitch and they all watched with equal horror as their dead friends began to rise despite being mutilated beyond recognition.

An explosion erupted from within Gringotts and a section of another low level wall was blown apart.

The dead Goblins joined Voldemort's army and the Rebellion watched with incredulous expressions as Professor Filius Flitwick emerged from the smoke of the explosion and the dead began to charge at the recovering Goblins.

"Well don't just stand like idiots," Mad Eye Moody roared. "FORWARD TO VICTORY!"

The Living and the Dead renewed their assault with renewed spirit. From the high ground Voldemort laughed. His laugh high pitched and cruel.

He was beginning to enjoy himself.

* * *

Inside the Bank, Branch Manager Ragnok and his squads of Dark Goblins cracked their muscles. The walls had been breached.

* * *

 ** _Time Unknown, The Settlement by the Sea._**

Snape was leaving the Camp. He had been well rested, had learnt enough about the Desert and now it was time to look for Albus. He was their only hope.

A few of them were having a good bye bonfire for him. Being stoic, emotionless, irritable and good with dark magic had made an impression on certain people.

It was dark. Half a dozen patronuses patrolled the sea line, their distinct shape and light made more pronounced by the full moon night.

"You should wait," Daphne said sharply. She was not happy about Snape leaving. He could be a valuable asset when they went after Harry. "Arthur's team almost figured out how to navigate through the distortions. We can go as a team to find Dumbledore."

Snape scoffed. "You're after Harry. You want revenge. I want to find Dumbledore because that's what I need. If we went together into the Desert, navigational tool or not, we'd be lost. If you haven't figured it out, the desert is more than just a maze. It takes you through a maze in your own mind," he whispered.

"Stop being dramatic Snape," Hermione cut in drily. Being safe had brought her confidence back and she was firmly in sync with Daphne's desire. She wanted revenge. She wanted to see Harry defeated.

Snape scowled and Daphne grinned. "I'm not after revenge. I want to find him so that he can end this stupid curse."

Sirius barked a laugh. "If you think you can reason with Harry you're insane."

"You don't know him like I do. I know how to get through to him."

"You're being stupid," a young voice cut in. It belonged to a boy named Jack. He was dressed in army gear and had a rifle strapped around his shoulder and a belt filled with bullets. He was a hard core fan of Pulp Fiction and in the presence of the desert, had gained the ability to use magic through runes.

Snape had shown him how to make bullets using runes through which transfiguration had evolved after being pestered by Jack for days.

"It's my decision," Snape said firmly.

"Fine," Daphne huffed. "Don't get all rigid. Just let it be known that I agree with the kid. You're being stupid."

The group fell into silence. Daphne sat down by the fire and poked at flames with her newly made wand. Turn out Dementors had some uses after all. They had managed to capture a few and Arthur's research team with the addition of Oliver; Ollivander's apprentice, a survivor of the battle in Diagon Alley, managed to discover many interesting facts about magic.

Snape was the first to finish his fire whiskey. A survivor from Hogsmeade had found her way to the settlement with a bottomless and weightless bag filled with supplies.

"Well," he said after tossing his bottle aside. "Thanks for the whiskey. I'll be leaving at first light."

Snape then gave a half hearted wave. "Black," he called. Sirius turned away from his mangled sand art. "Get over yourself and find Potter. You're his guardian. You're responsible for him." Sirius gaped at him and before he could think of a retort, Snape was already out of hearing distance. No one was surprised. None of them had expected him to stay longer than twenty minutes anyway.

"It's no one's fault," Arthur commented quietly. "No one could have predicted this."

Sirius scoffed. "If you ever meet Dursley then you'd have predicted this from any magical child under his roof."

Hermione stared. Child abuse. The hint was clear enough. "Why didn't you take him away?"

"I had James and Lily to look after," Sirius explained. "Dumbledore and I had worked out a deal to take him when he turned eleven and instead we weren't there when he needed us."

His expression turned chilled.

"No one knows but we examined Dursley's kid's mind. What we found in there, what they did to Harry. It's no wonder he murdered them. We had to modify his memory to erase Harry's presence from that world after he left the juvenile home."

Daphne's heart twisted. Outward, her expression turned to disgust. "Snape's wrong. I'm not after revenge. I just want to talk to him."

"You want to risk your life for that? A conversation with a psychopath?" Oliver, Ollivander's apprentice, said acidly. "You should stay and contribute to turning this settlement into a worthy stronghold, capable of defending itself and sustaining itself. We're making so much progress. This is our new start!"

Daphne didn't say anything. None of them would understand. "Don't worry about it now. We still have time. We're not prepared enough. How's the weapons development going Jenna?"

Jenna was a muggle scientist working at an private R&D firm before the desert tore her life apart. "Hermione has helped tremendously with her knowledge of runes and everyday we get closer to deciphering the runes in the sky. They're what's powering this whole curse. We're trying to figure out how to neutralise it as well." At night the magic in the sky was cold and cut throat. Any one travelling at night was at immediate risk of hypothermia and death.

"We should go back," Arthur said. "It's getting late and the dementors aren't going to stay idle much longer.

Azkaban had come into their line of sight.

Before finding Harry, they had to first take Azkaban. The castle; free from evil soul sucking creatures would go a long way towards their survival. They had developed ways of fighting the creatures when the attacks on the camp rose from three a night to ten a night. And now, they were ready to take them on and drive them away.

"Right," everyone muttered. It was getting cold as well. They didn't want to be stuck out in an unexpected frozen sand storm. It had happened once and they had lost about a dozen of their weak.

"I'm going to the R&D centre," Hermione said. She had Harry's diary clutched in her palm.

Arthur, Daphne and Oliver went along with her as the rest dispersed to their huts and tents.

They all had poured over Harry's notes and had not even come close to understanding twenty percent of what was scribbled in there.

Daphne stared at the full moon as they walked on silently.

She couldn't live like this anymore. The restlessness was too strong now that she knew Harry was alive and had taken over Hogwarts.

Come what may, she was going to make it to Hogwarts. She had made up her mind.


	49. Lead the Way

**Lead the Way**

"It's never been about ideology," Bellatrix whispered, as she entered her room. The living room was a cosy space with a tall lamp, dark green soft carpet, a couch and a set of armchairs facing the dying hearth. A silhouette moved in the dim light and she smiled. "It's about having fun."

"Welcome back Mistress."

She jumped on the couch and stuck her palm out.

A pretty brunette came into the light from the kitchen that was tucked away in one corner. She was wearing a french maid costume and her eyes were fixed to the floor with a demure expression as she carefully carried a tray with her mistresses favourite single malt.

"Thank you darling," Bellatrix said with wink and slapped her ass as she walked away.

Bellatrix could feel it again.

The thrill of a revolution. She rolled the liquid in the glass idly. The shadow of of the light highlighted the small smile that was growing on her lips.

Her caged prey shivered in the dark. Bellatrix was thinking. She was smiling. This was good. Her mistress had a new target.

"Tracey dear," Bellatrix said suddenly. "You know Harry Potter right?"

Rage burned inside Tracey. This was all his fault. Her precarious situation had him to blame.

"Yes Mistress," she replied, looking at the painting of the drowning sailor on the wall behind Bellatrix. She always avoided eye contact. Eye contact made the witch go crazy.

"What gets him off?" Bellatrix asks Tracey.

Tracey's heart jumped. Why was Bellatrix so curious about Harry? she wondered. Was he here?

"Battle," Tracey replied after a moment's pause. "He is a psychopath looking for something to excite him. Most psychopaths are satisfied with the rush of murder but Potter… he'll destroy the world looking for excitement. He's mistaken his excitement for purpose and is just a blind crazy orphan with a god complex. It's that simple."

Bellatrix licked her lips. How exciting, she thought gleefully. She was going to have fun with him. She slipped out of her robes and slid onto her expensive mattress with a soft sigh. "Could it be that simple?" she said with a sinister chuckle.

"May I ask why the Mistress is interested in him?" Tracey was taking a bold step by asking a question but her desperate mind had instinctively latched on to a possible way out.

Bellatrix yawned. She was tired. "He's spending the night at Dany's."

Tracey's heart quickened. Could she use this to escape? Why did Bellatrix tell her?

"Come here darling. I'm feeling sore. I could do with a massage."

Tracey automatically summoned the massage oils. "Yes, Mistress."

"And take off your clothes."

"Yes, Mistress."

Tracey steeled her mind. She had to wear the bitch out if she needed time to plan an escape.

* * *

 **Dany's Homes, Avalon. The following Sunrise.**

Harry woke up on a warm floor and thin blanket shielding him against the cool ventilation of his room. He felt well rested. He had even eaten a normal meal complete with greens and fruits.

He hadn't even had any dreams or couldn't remember them. He couldn't remember

The room was spacious with a four poster luxuriously carved out of mahogany and wrapped in crimson silk blankets. Floating lanterns lit the room with comfortable luminosity and the high ceiling was enchanted to reflect the night sky or day, depending on the mood of the occupant.

Harry had bypassed the soft mattress and chosen the wooden floor for a good nights sleep.

"What time is it?" he asked out loud. He had been informed at the reception that the rooms were charmed to respond to requests.

Green Mist materialised by the bed side table and morphed into four thirty in the evening.

Time was becoming relevant to Harry after being ignored for far too long.

"And where am I, geographically speaking."

The mist twisted into words. _Geographically speaking you are nowhere._ Or was it runes? Harry could understand it but he was unable to actually see words or runes.

What a strange magic, Harry thought; the background of his mind began to ponder over where nowhere could be. This place was a physical construct therefore it had to exist somewhere in space or time.

The Mist was a deeper form of communication, Harry realised. One beyond runes. Enchanted into an artificial form of communication through the touch of the source.

Harry chuckled with amusement. He was liking Avalon more by the minute. He walked to the cupboard and opened it to find army green pants and a white collared shirt; freshly laundered and neatly folded beside inner wear, a pair of black socks and grey sneakers.

The magic of this hotel knew what clothes he'd possibly like too. He was amazed at the level of detail the enchantments went into.

A steam bath and cold shower later. Harry was dressed and ready to embark on the next leg of his path to the source. He was ready.

He teleported to the reception and checked out after charging a crystal with his magic. Currency here was interesting he had learnt when he checked in and had it explained to him. The proprietors had crystals that stored magic and they collected them in large quantities for reasons yet unknown to Harry. Maybe later, if he had the time, he'd research it but now was not the time. First he had to complete his journey.

A short nod of thanks to the man at the desk was given and Harry left the establishment.

Outside he ran into some he hadn't expected but was clearly waiting for him.

He knew her. He had seen her often with Daphne.

"Tracey Davis," he murmured.

She looked well. Healthy and well dressed. Her colours on the other hand…. her red was in distress. Her orange stressed and her green too pale to be normal. On second thought, she wasn't well at all, Harry realised. How did she find him? She was weak, that meant she was here as prey. Whose prey was she? … He had a hunch.

Tracey didn't expect to find him. She had half expected this to be another game Bellatrix was playing with her. Harry was a monster, a psychopath, but he was the only one left who could save her from this perverse fate that had trapped her.

"Harry," she breathed, her eyes wide. "You left Hogwarts."

The terrible memories flooded her mind's eye and rage filled her again. He was a monster, she wanted to scream. He deserved to die.. she wanted to stab him until there was nothing but a bloody pulp of flesh left. She wanted him to replace her as Bellatrix's pet. He was the one who had stolen her freedom.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to look at her colours to tell she was plotting something. He wasn't surprised though. Everyone he had ever come in contact with wanted to kill him or cage him.

"I destroyed it," he said nonchalantly. Luna was special. No one was allowed to return to Hogwarts.

"I see," Tracey forced out. The rage was blinding but so was the fear. He could crush her with barely a thought. She had to be careful. "Can we talk?"

Another conversation, but with a feeble mind, Harry thought dryly. His curiosity won out over his impatience. "Sure," Harry agreed, "Let's talk." He wondered if there was anything she had to say that would interest him. "Lead the way."

Tracey smiled feebly and nodded. "There's a quiet pub down three alleys. Come on."

Harry followed silently and observed her colours. She was calming down. The intensity of her fear dimmed and her yellow and blue began to pulse. She was scheming and it annoyed him. He never did like being part of someone else scheme.

"Is there a library around?" he asked.

Tracey was startled. "A what?"

"A Library," Harry repeated patiently.

"Er… yes. It's actually close by."

"Lead the way."

Tracey knew a command when she heard one. She turned right.

Behind her, Harry grinned. That had been fun. Her red was now spiking. Her fear was returning. He increased his pace and stepped in beside her. "How did you end up here?" he asked.

"You're an asshole. That's how I ended up here," she bit out.

Harry was taken aback. That was sudden.

Tracey stopped and looked at him with hard features. "Look," she hissed. "I don't want to talk to you. I fucking hate you. But I got no choice. I have information you need. Get me out of here and i'll tell you what you need to know. So what's it going to be…" she couldn't resist adding an insult. "…. you monster."

"No." Harry was blunt. He didn't care much about her information. He was merely curious to know how the Desert had affected her. It was different for everyone. The Desert consciously created a maze for the mind. It was the maze that changed for each soul. he had realised. It was his labyrinth rune structure that had make the connection with the source. The source was interpreting his runes the way it chose. It was possible if he analysed the way it affected people, he could find a pattern. A process unique to the source that could help him reach it faster.

Tracey trembled. "I never expected you to say yes. If you want to leave here alive, you're going to hear what i have to say.. so, again… what's it going to be?"

Harry grinned. Looks like the Desert had improved her guts. "Lead the way," he said with a mocking gesture. He could easily pull the information out of here. He had a lot of options… torture, mind reading, being the popular choices. But there was something else he wanted to try.

His observation of the succubi had shown him they could manipulate the cores of others, specifically the orange. They charged it to an extent where every other rational thought created by the rest of the colours in a human was overpowered with the desire implanted by the succubi. Harry wondered if he could replicate it.

Tracey his prey now. If Black wanted her back, she was going to have to come fetch.

* * *

 **The Library, Avalon.**

Harry was quite impressed with the library of Avalon. From the outside it was a small, circular, unassuming building made out of red stone. It had no entrance. You had to walk through the walls, and once inside, his mind was blown. It was still the same size, a few wooden tables and chairs bunched close to each other in the centre, but all around, everywhere else… books floated neatly as if in a shelf but there nothing. The rows were stacked atop each other and Harry's eyes kept going up and up, eyes getting wider at the apparent endless roof, that stretched on to a dark infinity with books in an invisible, immaterial shelf, bonded to the heart of the building.

The magic was pure white and hummed with an endless deep serenity.

"Oh my," Harry whispered.

"It's amazing isn't it," Tracey said softly, her mind free of thought and at peace under the influence of the magical library.

"You don't know the half of it," Harry laughed. "Actually, strike that. You know _nothing_ of it."

And just like that her fury returned. "Just sit down," she snapped. "Think of a book and it will come to you."

She didn't have to tell him. He saw it in the magic. He felt so close to the source. It's wonder felt real. It's wonder would not be gone if the truth was made real. It was the truth Harry was looking for. And a Truth that he would never find in the world of human nature.

A book drifted down, like a feather in a downward spiral, attracted to his thoughts.

He smiled and carefully plucked it out the string of magic attached to the shelf. The book would return when he was done with it. It was written in the magic.

He grinned to himself and gave a passing glance to a woman seated and reading on one of the tables, as he followed Tracey's lead and sat at the table furthest away.

"What book is that?" Tracey asked, curious, despite her simmering rage.

It was hundreds of thin parchment sewn into a black leather cover. There was no title on the cover but Harry could see it. "The birth of the Universe," he said softly.

He put the book down on the table and leaned back with a relaxed sigh. He folded his arms and looked at Tracey with piercing eyes.

"Ok then. Talk," he commanded.

"Bellatrix," Tracey started and was immediately cut of by Harry. "She's coming after me isn't she?" he said knowingly.

"Yes," she replied tightly. What did he know that she didn't?

"It was inevitable," Harry said. "She's addicted to power. To be more specific, having power over others, power over the world. Her method is unabashed seduction. And the idea of having power over me is irresistible."

Harry grinned. "If she comes at me again, it's going to be a fight."

Tracey couldn't help it. She was impressed. She now saw what Daphne saw in him and desired to make her own. Tracey scoffed in her mind. Did Daphne really thing she could control him?

Harry saw her colours dip towards jealously and wondered what the girl was thinking.

"You're absolutely right except for one thing," Tracey said dryly. "It won't be just Bellatrix coming at you. She has friends just as strong as her and just as mad as her who will come at you too.

"Now, I know you're powerful. Probably powerful enough to destroy this island. But you're not strong enough or smart enough to escape from their underhanded methods of winning a fight."

"Interesting," Harry murmured. This was a good time to try out attempt at colour manipulation in another person. "So in simpler terms, I have to be smarted than them."

"Or, you protect me and I show you a quiet way out of here."

"Tracey," Harry said softly, turning his eyes to the book and opened it. The words looked English and written using an ink quill. It to him a moment to realise, the magic ended with the cover. The parchments were real and some one had worked hard to create this book. "Do you know why Daphne hung around me?"

"Because she had the hots for you?" Tracey said sarcastically.

"It was because she knew I could see right through her. And she also knew that I didn't care about what I saw."

"What are you talking about?" Tracey said irritably.

"You're lying to me about something," he hissed.

Tracey felt fear and leaned back in her chair.

It was gone as soon as it came. It was her first time seeing the demon inside Harry. His indifferent nature to her had almost fooled her into forgetting the monster hiding beneath.

"But it doesn't matter," Harry added more calmly. "I don't care about running into Bellatrix and if I can avoid it… good."

Tracey's heart jumped. Was he agreeing with her? Was going to get her out of here?! "And you'll take me to Daphne?"

"We part ways at the entrance to the Badlands."

Tracey suddenly felt light headed. Could her nightmare have a chance of getting over? There was exit to the real world there as well. She could survive by herself if she was away from Avalon.

"But just in case we do run into Bellatrix and her band, there's something I need to learn."

"What is it?" Tracey asked. Did it have something to do with the book, she wondered.

"Just be calm," he said.

Suddenly Tracey felt dread.

Harry reached out with the Void and focused his attention on her orange with the will to control it.

Tracey knew what was going to happen. She had seen it dozens of times now in the bars of Avalon when Bellatrix took her around. Was Harry going to sink that low! she cried in her mind.

Harry felt a rush of intense emotions and he broke the connection with a gasp.

The feeling of being overpowered drained out of Tracey and she glared at Harry. "What the fuck are you doing, you bastard," she hissed, her voice trembling.

"If I going to run into powerful enemies. I need an edge," he breathed. He hadn't been able to discern any way to control her colours. He just felt them at their full strength. It had been overwhelming. Controlling colours was harder than he realised. He smiled. Things that were hard to achieve were worth it.

"Don't worry," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Just be calm. I need the practice and a willing subject is easier to deal with."

"You…" Tracey began.

Harry reached out to her blue ignoring her protests and stopped cold in his tracks when he felt cold metal press into his temple.

"Stop what you're doing right now or else i'm going to plaster your brains all over these books. You don't want to ruin them do you?"

It was a woman's voice laced with a South European accent.

Harry stopped manipulating Tracey and turned to face the muzzle of a shotgun. He looked past the length of the menacing weapon and into dark eyes firm with determination.

He leaned back and observed her whole. She was in a black dress wearing a large hat, tanned, had black hair tied back and a rifle slung over her back in addition to the shotgun pointed between his eyes. He noticed a pistol tucked in the belt around her waist as well but what drew his attention most was the neck line of her dress that dipped deep, provocatively revealed her breasts.

Her colours were amazing and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it earlier when he had passed by her. Everything was in balance and the white flowed through her with an intensity he had not yet come across. She was in control of it and was capable of using it to do some serious damage. Harry felt it best to be cautious.

"What am I doing?" he asked casually. Could she see colours?

"Step behind me girl," the woman commanded Tracey.

Tracey stayed put. Her breath was laboured and she knew she was in trouble but he was still her way out. "Please," she said softly. "It's not what you think."

"He was attempting to control you," she snapped. "If there's one thing I hate most in this world, it's men who think they can do whatever they want, whenever they want."

Harry laughed softly. "You don't want to test me lady," he said. "Lower your gun and leave now. This has nothing to do with you."

The woman didn't lower her gun. "I overheard you girl. You want to get out of here. I can help you."

"Are you a muggle?" Tracey asked. She didn't feel any magic from her. She had learnt to differentiate between the two in Avalon. Muggles were usually prey but this was different. Only muggles used such weapons. How could a muggle help her? Bullets were useless against magic.

"Yes I am. And I've met my fair share of wizards who thought they could tame me. They're all six feet under the ground."

Tracey still felt doubtful. Her best bet out of here was still Harry in her opinion.

The woman lowered her shotgun and slung it back around her neck and confidently took a seat next to Tracey and loudly put her boots on the table.

Her dress was attracted by gravity and Harry followed their path up her legs.

Now Harry was intrigued. This woman was interesting.

"If you want her, she's yours. But she's not leaving until I'm done with her."

"You see," she said with a sarcastic tone, "I'm going to have to disagree with that. I'm not one to interfere but when I see something I know is wrong. I stop it."

"You think you can stop me?"

"You want to try me?" she barked back.

Her white vibrated in resonance and Harry felt it was wise to back down. There was an unknown factor at play here and something told him to to test it. She was in sync with the source. Had she seen it?!

"Who are you?" he asked instead.

Tracey stared at them with wide eyes. She now realised her plans were meaningless. She should have just followed him quietly and fate would have lead her free. Now she felt trapped between two predators. She didn't believe in saviours. Not anymore. She knew the woman was not saving her. There had to be an ulterior motives. She wondered if it mattered now that she had forged letters in Bellatrix's name and sent them to the Assassins Guild. If her plan had gone according to plan, Harry would have simply followed through the path she had planned, the assassins were given false locations and when they realised that Bellatrix would get the heat. Tracey would have been scot-free.

She should have known better than to play games with psychopaths. She surrendered. Suddenly, nothing mattered. She was just a pawn.

Tracey didn't know it, but the pressure of the presence of the source around Harry and the Woman was wreaking havoc on her magic.

"I'm just a traveller," she replied. "And you're a cheap bastard," she added.

Insults, Harry thought with disdain. He decided to get straight to the point. "What do you know of the source?" he asked. He had to test her knowledge. How did a muggle learn how to channel the source with such tremendous skill?

The Woman's eyes scrunched in confusion. "The what?"

Was her control unconscious? Harry wondered.

"How did you know I was trying to manipulate Tracey's colours?" he asked instead.

The Woman looked even more confused. "Colours? Did you escape from a psych facility dude?"

Irritation simmered in him. Maybe he read her wrong. Maybe she wasn't strong at all. He was only making assumptions and his perception of her was forcing him to be cautious. He took a breath to focus his thoughts and filtered out the irrelevant.

All that mattered was the source.

He looked around. This was just a trailer. He had to find the entrance to the Badlands. It was calling out to him.

Tracey didn't matter. The Woman didn't matter. What was the simplest solution out of this annoying situation he had put himself in?

His thoughts came to a common conclusion. One that would have never come to him had be not discovered his ego in the desert.

He stood up and the Woman causally kept her palm on the butt of her pistol. "Tracey," he said, turning his attention to the confused and desperate girl. "Lead the way and I'll keep you safe until we reach the exit. Lady, you want to keep her safe, you can accompany her and make sure I don't do fucking wrong things."

"Are you being serious," Tracey asked dully. "I'm not interested in your games. I just want out."

Harry picked up the book and put it into his pocket while simultaneously enchanting his pocket into a pocket dimension. The book was his until he was done with it. That was the Library's only Law. The book had chosen him and it would not leave until the knowledge he desired was received. The magic of the library was conscious and unbiased. If he disrespected the Law, there would be consequences.

Harry turned to leave. His mind was made up. He didn't want to waste time here. A conversation here was pointless. He knew attempting to manipulate Tracey again would not go down well. It was unfortunate but not something to dwell on.

"Wait!" Tracey shouted. She turned to the Woman. "I appreciate the help but I'm going with him."

"Let's go then," she said with a smile.

Tracey's opinion on the woman began to change. Was she genuine?

Harry remained quiet and waited for Tracey to lead. Instead he focused his mind on the Woman, who walked in side step with Tracey and began to analyse her dim colours which were far in contrast against her white.

"My name's Freya by the way," she said to Tracey warmly.

"Tracey Davis," Tracey replied feebly. "Maybe later you'll show me how you got away with fucking with Harry?"

Freya laughed. "I know this old dude who's a great teacher. I'm sure he'll be happy to shelter you. He pays me for every person I bring to him."

Tracey had been right. There was always a selfish agenda.

—


	50. Change is Coming

**Change is Coming...**

The journey through the back alleys of Avalon was uninteresting and they travelled in relative silence until Freya decided to be chatty.

"Tracey," she said sagely. She felt the need to teach the naive girl some real truths. She sensed a lot of weakness in her. "This fate that has befallen the world is a gift."

Tracey stared at her as if she was an idiot.

"You're kidding," Tracey said her voice low and filled with ridicule. "It's hell."

"Not if you're strong," Freya replied. "If you're strong, its pure freedom."

Harry's perception of Freya shifted. "I agree." Moments when other human beings agreed with his point of views was rare. Non existent in fact.

Freya looked at him, her eyes sharp and acknowledging. "You might be an asshole but I know a predator when I see one." She laughed. "And met a lot who thought they were stronger than me," she added. She could see it in his eyes. Arrogance born from invincibility.

"So you think you're the top dog?" Harry's mind flickered to a cackling Bellatrix who probably thought the same.

"Do you?" she countered, teasingly.

"I created the Desert. I can safely say none of you can take down in a fight."

Freya's eyes widened with shock and she stopped in her tracks. She turned to Tracey with an incredulous look on her face. "Did you know?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes."

"And you want to hang out with him?!" Freya was stunned. Was a girl this weak that stupid as well?

"I don't have a choice!" Tracey defended. "My alternative was being a slave to sadistic egomaniacal bitch with the desire to cut me into pieces…. slowly _and_ make it so that I feel every slice like a hot poker through a lung! Or..."

Harry was impressed. Bellatrix had a creative mind.

Freya grimaced. Such were the woes of the weak and she wished the girl would learn. "Avalon is a beautiful place and it has it's dark side. There's no place on Earth that doesn't have one. Alright, I get it now. You don't have to worry anymore. I'll take you to safety."

She turned to Harry, her expressive passive now. The shadow of her hat cast mystery onto her eyes and her white hummed softly.

Harry couldn't help himself. He felt taken in by this woman. The way she dressed, her attitude, the way she was structured, everything about her radiated confidence. And through that confidence she had summoned a power he could not understand. What had she done to get it that he hadn't? The thought annoyed him.

"You still think you can stand toe to toe against me knowing it was my power that changed our worlds?"

May be if she used it, he'd understand. Should I provoke her? He wondered.

"Anyone can break the world," she retorted softly. "It's the ones who rebuild it, better and stronger; they are the ones with real strength."

"So not you then," Harry replied coolly. She was just a traveller. A decent hearted one.

Freya laughed. "No, not me. I just think Desert is refreshing. It's just what humanity needs."

Tracey felt irritation. "Why do you keep saying that! And don't give me that if you're strong bullshit. Accepting the weak instead of rejecting them is real strength and you know it. You are strong, I can feel it. But you're fucking insane if you think the Desert is a good thing!"

Harry waited with baited breath. A positive opinion on the desert was something that excited him tremendously. He wanted to know. He wanted to know what thought his creation had given birth to in the mind of another strong enough to survive it with relative ease.

Freya sighed. "Sure got a lot of questions for someone who wants to escape," she said.

"Answer the question," Harry said softly.

The tall woman of seemingly South European descent rolled her eyes at him.

"You see," she began thoughtfully, "the main problem with society is they bring up their children in an environment of false security and safety and then they teach the children how to maintain that illusion, one of them being, good and bad. There's only necessity and the Will that sustains it.

"The Desert reminds us it's that Will that matters in the long run of human evolution. If we forget about it, we face extinction sooner rather than later. But now, we have a chance."

"There's a positive spin on things," Tracey muttered.

"Tracey," she said knowingly. "Can you guess why this kid is the way he is?"

She was playing games, Tracey realised. She was just like Harry. "How?" she asked with a sigh.

Her eyes turned mischievous. "Your friend here craves attention. He pretends he doesn't want it and keeps to himself because he know's he's a freak. You were abused as a child weren't you?"

Tracey gaped. That wasn't the wisest thing to say to a psychopath in her opinion.

"Yes I was," Harry replied, his voice calm. He had accepted it. It was over and he had moved on. "And know that it doesn't define me."

Freya scoffed. "You're the worst case scenario of it kid! You're more predictable than you think."

"Well," Harry said softly. "Go ahead and try to exploit my weakness. We'll see if I'm predictable."

Freya chuckled and resumed walking. "Consider this a defining moment of the evolution of the human race, Tracey. Now chose whether you want to live through it or die before the cocoon cracks open. That's what I mean."

Harry was impressed. Her perception was spot on and his respect for her rose. The end game was simple; evolve or die. "The universe has more dimensions that I thought," he muttered to himself as they continued their path to the Badlands. He couldn't wait to be along and start reading his new book.

He felt like there was an epiphany hiding in there… waiting to be found.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **International Space Station.**

"It looks like an EM field storm." the Chinese said, his eyes glued to their equipment monitors. "But there's something else. some other field. our sensors are detecting some kind of abnormality. We need to recalibrate the system. Its almost like its growing outwards from the Earth."

The United Nations had been forced to reveal the truth and the astronauts of the ISS had a front row seat as anarchy became the natural order of the masses. Military rule has been declared unanimously by every government. Dragons had attacked and the mountain top towns became their breeding grounds. Strange creatures preyed on them in the night and one by one, cities began to lose power. When the sheep realised no was there to protect them, evolution took its course and taught them to be wolves. The Militaries began a shield for the rich and powerful to protect their way of live for as long as they could while they pooled their resourced in figuring out a way to entire end the madness or end the people causing the madness.

While the Government's hid behind big guns, the scientific community continued to find a way to stabilise the atmosphere. The rapid fluctuations in wind currents was creating havoc with weather patterns. The EM bursts from the hole that was the United Kingdom had morphed and were now travelling with rapid speed in strings over continents, affecting everything it could influence.

"Got a location?" asked the American.

The communications monitor beeped and a message came through. Most of their communicators had gone dead but they were still able to exchange small messages on low band frequencies.

"No… it… it feels like its everywhere."

"Feels?" she laughed. "I'm going down to the Pantry. You want something?"

"No," he muttered, his mind working on the readings. "Just ask Jim if control station figured out how to get us back to the planet."

"Roger that, Jin."

They had important data that needed to be back on Earth to be analysed and that was not possible with the limited means of communication that they had right now.

Their final option was to descend into the atmosphere, sacrificing the station and their lives, just for a chance to transmit the data. It was their only hope.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Gringotts.**

The battle was over.

Flitwick and Voldemort had managed to turn the tide of battle until the branch manager's head rolled to a stop on the blood soaked battle field.

Seeing their leader fall, the Goblins turned and ran back into the tunnels they came from.

Yet, no one was celebrating.

There were not even a hundred of them left.

There was nothing but emptiness and tunnels left.

Miraculously, he had survived.

Draco climbed out from under the dead bodies he was buried in and looked to the sky with wonder.

"I'm alive," he whispered.

"Yes kid. You're alive. Congratulation."

It was Moody. Of course the Mad Eye had survived.

"Oye!" he shouted. "Everyone into the bank! Find the fucking pot roast hidden in there!"

There was tremor of humour among the survivors and they tiredly limped or crawled to their safe haven. For most, the only goal was to find a nice spot to sleep.

One by one they disappeared into the interiors of the bank to take a break from surviving hell until four remained near the entrance, staring at the dead as the setting sun glittered like rubies in their blood.

"What are you going to do now…. Tom?" Moody broke the silence. "Still hell bent upon World Domination? Should be easy now. There's hardly anyone left."

Flitwick just sat on some rubble and ignored them all. His mind was on Hogwarts. His true home. He wanted to leave and find it. And perhaps find Albus along the way. The tired professor sighed and looked at the Malfoy boy who was lying flat on some left over marble and staring into the sky with a stupid grin on his face.

"Alastor Moody," Voldemort murmured. "Looks like you won your war." His eyes flickered towards the closest mangled corpse.

Moody didn't miss the hidden sarcasm. "And you lost yours… to a what… a thirteen year old kid?"

"There's no shame in losing to Harry Potter," Voldemort countered smoothly. He was missing a hand and yet looked the most regal amongst them. His coat even smelled laundered.

Tom Riddle was feeling like his old self. The feeling of being the dominant one side in a battle and beating down those wretched creatures had made him remember what it felt like to be the Dark Lord after being dominated by the desert.

"He was the chosen one. Whether we bowed down to him or tried to break his back, this was always going to be his victory." An older prophecy stuck out in his memory. One that had been directed at him in passing but never really gave much relevance to as at that time it seemed obvious it was referring to him.

"What the fuck are you babbling about Tom," Moody snapped. Even though the battle was over, even though they had won, even after literally everyone had passed out from exhaustion, even though Voldemort had fought by their side to win; he was still on his guard. He lived up to his name. Constant Vigilance "Mad Eye" Moody.

"What I talk about, Moody, is nothing you can hope to comprehend. So I'll keep things simple. I don't care about you or your survivors. I'll do what I want and leave when I want.

Draco felt the world of dreams calling him. His adrenaline was finally over. His eyes were drifting shut and before he passed out he had the strength to say what was on his mind. "All of you are fucking inbred dicks," he said tiredly. "Instead of barking at each other you should all bow down to me. I'm the purest of all you morons here."

Flitwick was stunned. Draco said that and passed out. "I don't think he quite understood who was around him, I think," he squeaked with amusement. "You should get some rest Alastor. You've lost half your weight. We'll need it back in full if we want to survive to old age."

Moody glared at Tom. "Make up your mind by tomorrow. If you stay, you follow our rules. If you leave, I hope you die alone."

Tom smirked. "Oh I think I've made up my mind," he said cryptically. He wondered when he should drop the bomb that he had battled Dumbledore to near death and the old man was probably dead.

Flitwick eyed the dark lord fallen from grace. He was looking at a broken man. Voldemort was looking for a way out. Even a once feared dark lord had been brought to his knees by the Desert.

The charms professor, stared into the sky, his eyes charmed to see the runes.

"What a work of art," he murmured in awe. "If it weren't for your madness Tom, this probably wouldn't have been a desert, it would have been a paradise."

"You blame this on me?" Voldemort laughed, his voice high. It never failed to send shivers down Flitwick's spine. Voldemort at his core was Dark. Harry on the other hand always felt on the edge to him. "It was your dear old headmaster who chose to leave the boy with those magic hating muggles," Voldemort continued. "It was false righteousness that brought this desert upon us all."

"All to fight you. To prevent you from destroying the world," Flitwick said sadly.

"And look what that led too."

Flitwick sighed. What indeed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _ **Review :)**_


	51. Enter the Badlands

**Enter the Badlands**

 **The Temple, Avalon**

"Ok," Tracey whispered.

They alley's were widening and establishments made their presence known with architecture borrowed from all parts of the globe. Although, Harry found it strange they were all still closed. He'd expected near noon to be atleast a little busy. He had been looking forward to seeing the different people who populated Avalon.

"We're going to enter the courtyard and we need to remain silent. It will be crowded and the chances of being recognised by Bellatrix's friends is high. So keep your hoods up."

Harry's heart quickened, feeling the rush of excitement. He loved this feeling. The thrill of finding a secret gateway.

"And if we're attacked, you and I run and let the asshole fight," Freya said to Tracey seriously.

He was looking forward to seeing what Bellatrix would do. She was going to be there. Regardless of Tracey's schemings, truth heard through the Void was fated to be faced.

When they turned left into an enormous courtyard, Harry first saw an enormous black temple rising from the centre of the courtyard, absorbing all the colours and making a faint sound that reminded him of home. It was gorgeous.

His eyes absorbed the surrounding gardens, stalls and large archways embedded in the corners which obviously served as the entrance and exit to Avalon. He vividly noticed the massive courtyard was empty. Bellatrix, he thought. It had to be.

"What the fuck?" Freya gasped. The courtyard was always milling with people. How was it empty?

Harry smiled, containing his growing excitement. He was attracted by a faint blue light glowing out of the temple and decided to do what he came here to do.

It was the source. It was calling him. Nothing could obstruct his path.

As if in a trance, he walked towards the temple. Scriptures engraved into the stone became larger as he grew closer and the light of the temple began to welcome him in.

"Let's go," Freya whispered to Tracey. This was a trap. They had to get out of here.

"What about..?" Tracey began. Harry was her clue to finding her friends again.

"Forget him! The exits are clear. Let's just go."

Freya and Tracey took on a fast pace towards the closest archway.

The courtyard turned into soft grass and Harry felt a calm wash over him. He kicked of his sneakers and sank his feet into the soil beneath. "So this is Avalon," he breathed in wonder and closed his eyes as he felt something magical wash over him. It felt like an awareness.

Tracey and Freya were almost at the exit when a black shadow moved in the corner of their eyes.

Freya grabbed Tracey by the waist and kicked of the ground with immense force just as the ground was sliced into pieces.

Another blur cut their exit and Freya was forced to dodge.

Harry felt aggressive power and smiled wryly. She was here. What did she have up her sleeve?

The entrance was right before him. If he wanted he could just teleport in and avoid this confrontation all together. But the itch to fight and flex the Void was strong.

Freya drew her waist gun and fired three rounds at the new arrivals who were wearing black robes and a hood obscuring their faces.

"Assassins," Tracey breathed with fear.

Her plan had failed. Bellatrix had played her.

A fourth shimmered in front of Harry and had his hood down.

Harry narrowed his eyes to read the man's colours. He was tall and his skin pasty white with four deep red scars across his face. His red was of high contrast and masked every other colour of his magic. The man had abnormal physical strength. Harry decided to make him the example.

The Void burst out of him and the man felt the full force of it and was blown away from him into the temple.

A loud crash resonated from the inside and Harry exhaled deeply as the Void readied for battle.

He turned around and faced Bellatrix.

Freya and Tracey were surrounded by three smaller black robed figures. Freya was calm but Tracey was nearing a panic attack.

"Did you really think it would be that easy getting away from me?" Bellatrix said to Tracey with amusement. "Who's the shepherd?"

Freya ignored her and looked at Harry. He was not far enough not to hear her. "Oye!" she shouted. "You gonna honour your word?" He had agreed to lead Tracey to the exit. They were not there yet. "Just be calm girl," she added with a whisper to Tracey. "I've got some tricks up my sleeve if things get hairy."

"Aren't they already?" Tracey whispered back urgently. She didn't object to Freya's hand being firmly wrapped around her waist. The woman was strong, she was realising. Far stronger than she had imagined if Harry had chosen to back away after seeing the power she could not, in her.

Bellatrix shrieked a laugh. "You agreed to shelter her Harry? I didn't realise you were that pathetic!"

Harry had no time for banter. He was focused. Far more focused than he had ever felt in his life.

The Void had already surrounded them and they didn't even realise it. He hoped it wouldn't be this easy to subdue them.

He nodded to Freya and the Void wrapped around his attackers in a tight grip.

Outward, nothing happened. But, through the Void, Harry felt a resistance he had never felt before. They could break out of his grip at any time. What were they waiting for?

"Let them go," Bellatrix said calmly after a moment. His touch was soft. It made her shiver in anticipation of making him her pet.

"Let them go?"

One of assassins was a woman and her tone was full of scorn.

"Tracey Davis faked a contract." A man. He broke free from Harry's grip like it was fake glue and pointed at Tracey.

Harry blinked. He didn't notice a force. It felt more like a transmutation.

"And I gave you a real one," Bellatrix snapped. "We're here for the boy. You chose what's profitable."

The third lowered his hood and the Void shattered around him like glass. He was young, seemingly of Indian descent. He felt the fourth he had punched into the temple return with his anger flowing through the magic around them.

"Go!" Bellatrix barked to Tracey.

Freya laughed. "Thanks Kid! I didn't want to waste my bullets on idiots. Come on, Tracey," she said tugging her to the exit. "You're going to love Albus."

Harry heard it just as they disappeared and a deep yearning pulled him into a black hole. "Wait!" he shouted.

"Did she mean?" Bellatrix gasped, her eyes wide.

Harry didn't know why he called out. Hearing that name had just triggered an emotion in him. He wasn't able to understand it. What was it?

"Oh well," Bellatrix sighed. Stupid old men didn't merit her attention. Younger, virile ones did.

Harry let go of his grip.

Now was not the time to lose focus. He was surrounded by powerful beings being paid to subdue him and another wanted to seduce him.

It was his advantage. He was aiming to kill. It had been too long since he had felt his killing intent. Letting it wash over him felt like nostalgia. His blood lust rose and the Assassins felt it.

"Bellatrix," Harry warned softly. "Don't regret this." He could sense his control wavering. That dark grin that he kept controlled began to bubble to the surface and his body automatically went into a slight crouch.

Avalon's heartbeat slowed to a crawl and Bellatrix's sword cut through with the speed of sound.

The Void thrummed with a dark energy and from the abyss of the void rose the will to rip open the space between him and Bellatrix's magic and unleash it on the big man emerging from the temple.

He was sliced without mercy and dead before his two halves hit the grass.

Bellatrix snarled and the other three assassins burst into movement; sprinting in unison to surround him.

Harry watched in fascination as magic began to construct around them, a language that spoke of death. Magik that could skewer him hurtled at him and he ripped the space around him and stepped away near an exit, just as their curses shredded the air where he had been.

Harry's heartbeat drummed at the back of his head. He raised both his arms and slapped them together, pouring his will to destroy into the void. A pulverising force ripped through the courtyard and Harry weaved it around them, pouring more power into the deathly trap.

"Watchout," the man shouted in alarm.

The Void had turned into a deadly cage that was rapidly shrinking on them.

Their shields held for a moment and then two piercing screams of pain tore through the courtyard.

Two shields held firm until the curse dissipated.

Only Bellatrix and the man had survived.

Blood soaked the grass and Harry breathed it in, it's smell sweet and intoxicating.

The sacred temple was witnessing a slaughter.

The last Assassin, glanced at his dead with apathy. At least their death was swift.

"Miss Black," he said, his voice deep and soft. "Who is this boy?"

"Harry Potter," she said and licked her lips. He was putting up a good fight, she thought with excitement.

"Why is he abnormally strong?"

"I'll find out when I break him Kristof. Tracey had put in a contract of one million each. Well, now its five million for you if you make him my bitch. Are you running or staying Kristof?"

Harry waited patiently, curious to see what their next move would be despite their force being cut in half. They couldn't sense it. The Void was already a part of every particle in the courtyard. Being a part of it, he could feel the call of the Badlands grow stronger. It was excited too. It could sense his power and was eager to test it.

"You're underestimating me Harry!" Bellatrix laughed. She raised her sword to the sky and touched her wand to it.

Harry barely saw a flash and ducked instinctively barely avoiding the side slash. He was looking at after images and felt shock when a finger brushed him between his legs. He kicked out and teleported to maintain distance between them.

Bellatrix was fast, Harry realised, his heart raced, the feeling of almost being violated thundered inside him, messing with his senses. She could have almost ended him there.

He clenched his fist and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to fall for her provocation. That was what she wanted. The Void began to manipulate the weight in the air to weave a cocoon around Bellatrix and the man.

They felt it surround them and Bellatrix immediately cut it to pieces, with swift slashes of her blade while the man did nothing.

Harry and Bellatrix were surprised. The Assassin was making no move to attack Harry.

"I'm returning the contract," he said calmly.

"What!" Bellatrix shrieked. "Why?!"

Harry withdrew his hold around him. If he wanted to leave he wasn't going to stop him.

"There are some beings we cannot fight," he said softly. "We will give you five minutes. If you haven't left, both of you, the Avalon Council will never allow you to return."

There was an Avalon Council?

"Well," Bellatrix huffed, feeling annoyed. "I didn't realise you Assassins were such pansies. That's probably why I never felt like joining your creed," she mocked.

"Do not test fate Bellatrix. You will lose."

"Wuss," Bellatrix spat and turned her attention back on Harry. "Look's like your lucks earning its bucks!" she laughed.

She attacked rashly, without purpose, without reason. Suddenly Harry found it all pointless. This was too easy. He had expected more. They hadn't even drawn his blood yet.

Disappointment flooded him and deflected Bellatrix's magic with ease. It cut a ten feet deep smoking chasm in the ground. The Assassin had left, probably to brief the Avalon Council, he thought idly.

Her reaction was swift, a swirling current of pulverising power sprung out of her wand and Harry swat it aside like a bug. The curse flayed about and crashed into one of the exits, exploding it into dust and ash.

She didn't stop and followed with a good old fashioned sword thrust at his heart.

Harry clapped his hands together and caught the tip of the blade.

Bellatrix's let go of the blade and ran into him.

Harry didn't expect it and was caught off guard when she crashed into him.

Bellatrix sensed an opening as they stumbled back and grabbed his balls and squeezed.

Harry went blank for a moment as his heart did a stunned backflip and he snarled instinctively and drew his wand, a glow of dark green on its tip.

Bellatrix let go and skipped away, laughing hysterically.

"The look on your face!" She squealed. "I can't wait to sit on your face!"

"Touch me again, and I'll fucking feed you alive to Vultures," Harry growled furiously. She was aiming for his vulnerabilities with vicious sexuality. Harry felt its sting deep. Don't fall into her trap, he said to himself. Calm down. His hormones were aroused. Was she channeling magic through her nails? Was he affected?

Harry's thoughts were beginning to spiral. If Bellatrix pushed him, good things were not going to happen.

"Awww," Bellatrix mocked. She had drawn her wand and was tapping it on her shoulder, carelessly walking in circles with measured distance around Harry. "Did I make the itty-bitty baby feel uncomfortable?"

"We have four minutes left," Harry said, breathing heavily. He was struggling to keep focus. "You have a choice. Back off and live or attack and die. Either way, I'm walking through the temple in three minutes."

Bellatrix pouted. "Aw come on Harry. Don't tell me being forced to stay on your toes is not fun? I know you're enjoying this. You're powerful but you're not invulnerable. Exploiting invulnerabilities is a speciality of mine," she said.

Don't get caught of guard again, he said to himself and to her, with an ice cold tone he said, "And eventually you'll run out of tricks. I'll have no choice but to stain these grounds with your blood and I'll meet the Avalon Council to hear what they have to say. Two minutes."

"Your guards up," she acknowledged. "I can feel it." She knew it would be difficult to pierce his defence now and she had to chose the time for her next attack carefully. The hunt was on. He was a predator and so was she. She first, had to understand what kind of prey he liked. Bellatrix reached to a conclusion.

She picked up her sword. "Go on then," she said. "Runaway. Now you have a choice. Run and chase your imagination. Or stay and fight like a man."

The seconds ticked and time ran out.

Harry was not going to be baited. He turned his back on her and walked into the temple with the Void protecting his back.

"I'll be seeing you around Harry!" Bellatrix shouted. She cloaked herself and promptly followed him in. She was addicted to him. She wasn't going to stop until she tasted his blood and heard him scream her name in agony.

Inside the temple Harry found everything was too bright and had to shield his eyes. The colours radiating were of a large spectrum and Harry wasn't able to see a path anywhere. Nor walls or a ground. It was just energy.

He kept walking, his footsteps a soft echo.

Was there a secret to entering the Badlands, Harry wondered. He kept walking blindly, waiting for a clue.

The energy of the temple was different. It had no language. It did not exist to communicate. It existed to guide.

He had to ask, he realised with a start. "Take me to the Source," he said softly, hoping it would work and to his delight, it did. The light began to fade away and Harry's eyes adjusted to a dawn of an endless grassland.

Tall leaves of grass, five feet high, swayed in a gentle cool breeze and the sky; scattered with clouds, cast a red hue on the surface.

Harry couldn't sense energy. He looked around and it was the same everywhere. Grass. Apart from his own, he couldn't see or feel magic in any direction to the horizon.

How strange, he thought curiously. He could not even sense life. The grass looked fresh but they radiated no energy. He knelt down and plucked it out of the hard ground. It had roots and it felt real.

Harry grinned. If there was anything he had learnt in his travels of the desert. If something felt real, it was probably an illusion.

He drew his wand and conjured a coat. Night was falling and there didn't seem to be a moon around.

Perfect prowling time for a predator, Harry thought happily. He chose a direction in random and began to walk, teleporting whenever he desired. It would be a couple of hours before he'd begin to feel hungry. He had to find a place to camp.

An end to a fabled Quest was upon him.

* * *

 _ **Review :)**_


	52. Maelstrom

**Maelstrom**

 _"It's the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."_

 _\- Albus Dumbledore_

A few days had passed since Harry entered the Badlands and so far, he was having a relaxing journey. Herds of herbivores meant food wasn't in short supply. Time flowed naturally and he spent his days travelling the uneven terrain and browsing through his new book.

 _Did it begin with a blast or did it simply come into existence? When we talk about the brith of the universe, do we talk about the birth of energy or the birth of vacuum. Was it the crushing weight of emptiness that burst into creation?_ , read the first line of the first page.

Harry flashed back to that crushing moment in the courtroom.

 _I travelled the length and breadth of the universe, hoping to find an answer and all I found were questions,_ read the second line.

Harry paused, his eyes lingered on the third line, and then he shut the book and pocketed it with a sigh. He wasn't a fan of books that were written in first person. Not wanting to let that ruin the magic of the book, he decided to read it at night, if it decided to come along. Time was more melancholic then.

He was resting against the rough bark of an ancient banyan tree, lazing at the banks of a small spring that bubbled merrily in the middle of no where. The land was uneven so the spring became a tiny stream that attracted bird life and disappeared somewhere downhill.

Harry yawned, the chattering birds were making him drowsy. He needed to find some action or he was going to die of boredom. If this was all that was there, he wondered if its name: The Badlands, was a bad joke and he was destined to wander about without an answer forever.

He shook his head as soon as the thought swam across. He had to keep moving. Staying still was bogging him down.

He got up and stretched his body and continued his climb uphill. The only vaguely interesting observation he had made was in the place he was where the land began to incline upwards. It's gentle gradient began to undulate into a nearby range of hill that seemingly disappeared near the horizon. He wondered how high and far it went and if it meant anything. The way the land was formed didn't seem entirely natural.

Nevertheless, it was a direction and he journeyed it for two days and three nights, two of which he was sure were longer than normal, until on the third morning, the horizon began dip and the climb turned downhill steeply towards a crack in the ground that opened into a wide valley.

He could see the land on the other side of the valley and carefully navigated around the sharp rocks. He was sure the sun had risen a few hours ago but the closer he got to looking into the valley, the more cloudier it became.

He could not feel it, but he knew magic was at work. What he did feel was a faint vibration under his feet as he got closer to the edge.

And when he looked over the edge, the sound of the valley he heard.

It was battle screams and bloodshed.

His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw a mass of humans and horses rushing at each other in an enormous valley, hurling weapons at each other, climbing over the dead, slicing through each other with swords and spears; all with the intention of annihilating one side.

Harry looked closer and gasped. One side was not men on horses. They were centaurs! Massive, armed centaurs, that looked far more dangerous than the ones he had crushed to death.

Above the screaming and bloodshed, Harry could make out a distinct call being repeated from the strangely dressed men on horses. Ten~gri! they were shouting.

He leaped of the cliff and levitated down to the thundering ground, feeling awe at the sight of men and centaurs rushing and killing each other with pure bloodlust clouding their colours and minds.

Even though it felt real, when Harry raised an arm to touch a fallen centaur, his hand passed right through as if it were just a mist.

Harry still didn't feel any magic but knew there was a force at work here. He just wasn't able to sense it yet. And yet, he walked into the battle feeling a thrill by being in the middle of a raging fight to the death.

The bodies kept piling up and the numbers on either side felt endless.

It was a slaughter. He was watching history in the making. What did it mean? Why was he seeing this?

Ten~gri! The vaguely east asian men kept screaming as they battled hard. The centaurs were losing. They were being pushed back and overrun.

Yet they fought with fierce and silent determination.

Why were they fighting?

The questions kept racing in Harry's mind as he emerged on the other side of the valley. The land, instead of steeply rising up continued to slide down and curve beyond sight and yet, he felt like the ground was steeply rising ahead. What was the magic at work here?

Blood pooled beneath his feet as the sounds began to die down. His bare feet felt it warm and thick, yet when he walked on it, it dissipated like an aerosol.

An wounded man was tiredly walking towards a fallen spear and suddenly, he paused his painful movements.

Harry held his breath. Could they see him like he saw them? No one had noticed so far.

The man turned his head in Harry's direction and his eyes widened.

Harry noticed he was quite tall, his skin a whitish tan. Blue grey eyes that seemed green against the light lay under a sloping forehead made pronounced by hard edged cheek bones. Long reddish-brown hair fell in braids to his back under his metal helmet. His eyes were sharp as a hawk and he was already taking a defensive posture.

Harry reached for his wand, he felt the need to have a physical weapon. The void went defensive in the background of his mind.

Quicker than Harry could react, the man had drawn a dagger from his sleeve and tossed it at Harry. The Void instinctively reacted with a barrier but the dagger passed right through him.

The man seemed shocked and Harry took the chance to kick at him, only for his feet to pass through mist just as he had expected.

One thing was for certain. The two could see and hear each other.

Harry was amazed at the unfolding events. What was happening? He wondered if communication would work.

"Can you hear me?" he softly.

The man heard but didn't understand. He replied in an alien language that Harry didn't understand.

They looked at each other, trying to understand what was happening and almost simultaneously decided to stretch their arms out non threateningly in an attempt to feel.

Their fingers brushed and Harry felt an indomitable will that was not his own fill his mind. It was a power desire to conquer. It dissipated in an instant, leaving in him a lasting impression of the nature of the man before him.

The man felt something too and was now looking at Harry with acknowledgment in his eyes and a hint of a smile, curling around the edges of his mouth.

Harry grinned. They didn't understand what was happening but they understood each other. It was a meeting of two men with unparalleled ambition in a rift where time and space held no meaning. There was only a source.

He was wrong in his perception of the Badlands. It was not devoid of magic. It was magic! And it was playing with him. It was reminding him of his ambition.

Temujin! A call interrupted their observance of each other.

The man looked back, the call was for him, and the instant they broke eye contact the illusion dissipated and all that remained was mist. The sun was setting and visibility was reducing fast because of the thickening mist.

Harry stared at the after image of the man called Temujin with wonder. He was understanding what it meant to be in the unknown; the Badlands. He had to move to safe ground or risk another mind bending vision through the mist. The Void wrapped around him forming a protective shell.

The memories of this encounter spun strange conclusions in his mind to understand what the illusion meant. It was shown to him by the Badlands for a reason. What was it?

Was it saying he was a bloodthirsty conquer like the man whose will he had just read?

No, he wasn't. He wasn't riding the back of a conquest. He was forming his own path which bared a resemblance to the common denominators of a conquest.

Destruction. Death. Pain. Resolve. Vision. Dreams.

All human tendencies and traits.

He leaped high and began to climb the rocky hill to find a safe place to camp the night.

The realisation came to him as the wind beat against his body.

His Will was still human. Did magic want him to eradicate the human part of him? Or was it reminding him of its absence in a part of him.

His Green pulsed, in sync with his heartbeat. Don't think too much, his heart told him. Feel instead. Don't be afraid of shutting your mind.

Harry found a warm niche in the hills and settled in it's shelter with a relaxed sigh.

Feel what, he thought. His mind didn't have an answer but the green pulsed stronger. He had always thought it unnecessary. He had believed the green was just an unwanted distraction; that only contained painful emotions unbefitting of being felt by a sociopath.

And yet, in the final leg of his journey, magic was deeming it necessary for him to open his green without bias or judgement.

It was telling him it was time to surrender. Not to magic but to the green of his soul.

The stars were out and cast a light warmer than the moon's over the Badlands.

The mist was everywhere and it was making Harry drowsy.

Surrender, voices whispered to him in the dark.

Harry was falling asleep. He couldn't stop it.

Surrender… the voices whispered.

As he drifted into his subconscious, the third line of his new book simmered in the eye of his mind.

 _It was at the end of my wits that I gave up on meaning and looked into my Heart to find Death with all the answers._

He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to surrender to the Green.

The ground beneath him began to quake with irregular tremors.

Move! Harry tried to scream in his mind. But the power playing games with him was far too powerful. It was his match and more.

The ground began to give away. The Void was gone. Harry couldn't feel magic nor see any colours. A ball of fire burst into existence above him, streaking across the remaining sky, blocking his way out.

Everything had become a haze of falling rocks in a maelstrom of white wind. Harry could feel his body being ripped apart as he fell.

He should have been panicking and screaming in pain, but in his heart, all he could feel was delight.

He had finally found the rabbit hole. Or had it found him?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _A/N: Next Chapter: The Source._**


	53. Part Seven - The Unknown

**Part Seven - The Unknown**

 **The Source**

It took Harry a moment to realise he was floating in darkness. He moved his arms and felt no resistance, just emptiness. There was no air to breath, there was no sound. His mind, was calm, curious.

It could have been a second or it could have been eternity, Time was absent from absolute emptiness.

Was this the source?

His thoughts felt slow, sluggish. What was life without time? he wondered. He had travelled through time but how could his mind survive without time to take it forward?

A floor began to materialise and he felt his feet on a cold stone floor. A room shimmered around him and suddenly, Harry found himself facing the very familiar back wall of a Hogwarts classroom.

There was a light behind him, which returned the gift of sight to his mind and he turned around slowly. He felt another person in the room.

There was a woman seated behind the teacher's desk, wearing the robes of a Hogwarts Professor and she seemed engrossed in a book she was reading.

There was a pencil in her hand which she was idly tapping against the desk and Harry felt sound return to him.

He breathed fresh air with a gasp and the Professor noticed his presence.

She frowned, seeming confused. She looked around surprised by her surroundings.

Her face came into focus, under the mystical light, glowing around the ceiling and Harry was awash with aching familiarity.

Her red hair had paled with age and had grey streaking haphazardly. Lines of age had made inroads on her skin and her emerald eyes shone with warmth and dawning comprehension.

Harry goggled. She may be older but there was no way he could fail to recognise her.

"Mom," he whispered.

Lily stood up, her chair scrapping against the floor. She closed the gap between them in a blur and she hugged him tight. "Harry," she whispered.

Harry was limp in her grip. She was soft and warm and he felt safe in her arms.

She let go of him and looked into his wide eyes with her hands on his shoulders. "It's good to see you."

Her words didn't register. He just absorbed her voice, memorising it forever.

The surreality of his situation didn't escape his attention and a part of him questioned his perspective.

"Where are we?" he asked. He felt like he could talk to her. He didn't need to beat around the bush. She was his mother, almost alive and well, except that she did look a bit astral.

"Where is an interesting question," she chuckled. "Why, is what you should be asking."

Lily let go of his shoulder and gently grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the table. "Take a seat," she said. "You're here for a reason and that reason is why I'm here I suppose."

She sat behind the desk and Harry pulled up a chair from one of the desks.

He felt like he was in a bizarre detention.

"Were you this cryptic when you were alive?"

Lily pursed her lip and hummed in deep thought. "I never liked straight answers," she said after a moment with a grin.

Harry laughed and Lily giggled.

"I feel like the reason doesn't matter anymore," Harry admitted. "But, if you must know, i was looking for the source."

"The what?"

"The Source," Harry repeated. "You know, the source of magic, the pure truth behind the slime of society?"

"Merlin, Harry. What kind of stories did you grow up with?"

His mood darkened. "So you don't know."

"I'm dead Harry. The last thing I remember from life is saving yours. You brought me here and for that I'm grateful. Being part of a universal consciousness is not fun at all."

It was a wonderful fantasy. Reunited with a sane, loving mother. But it was not real, Harry knew that from the moment he saw her. This was just temporary. In a moment he would be back in the Badlands or dead and gone, never to be heard from again.

"I didn't grow up with stories," Harry said finally. He had to let go. "I was beaten and tortured for the better part of my childhood and I did what I had to do to survive."

"I see," she said quietly. "Must have been tough."

"It was alright," Harry said with a shrug. "People kept getting in my way though. They pissed me off to the point where I destroyed the country just to stop them from bugging me all the time. _And_ to teach them a lesson."

"What kind of lesson?"

"Magic is all that matters. Being one with magic should be the sole purpose of humanity. Magic is truth without the mucked up heap of flawed reasoning and hidden agendas with which our society is built!"

"So you set off in a quest to find the source of magic. The understand the simple truth of life and existence."

"That's right."

"And now that you've found it, are you satisfied and whole?"

Harry looked into her eyes and smiled. "I found you."

His hand was on the table and Lily took it in hers and squeezed gently. "You see Harry, the source as you call it, is not something that has an answer. It the question that drives it, powers it, and guides it. Questions that are born from the minds of conscious material life. Your question happened to be in resonance with the question that drove the source to reach out to you and you to it. Do you understand?"

"It's not a straight line," Harry said dryly. "It still doesn't explain what the source is."

Lily thought how best to explain it and got an idea.

She peered behind Harry, looking past his ear and the classroom disappeared. He was floating in emptiness again, but this time the light from a beautiful blue planet, illumined by a distant star took over his horizon and wonder.

A space station zipped past them. It was on a collision course with the planet in a desperate attempt to get their data to their headquarters. The were running on blind fate, praying for an answer, a solution. An end to the nightmare.

"Wow," Lily said. "You did all that?"

"Yea," Harry breathed in awe. The Desert had taken over a fifth of the planet. Catastrophic climate change was wreaking havoc all over the planet.

Magic crackled menacingly in the atmosphere, making thunder and lightning look tame.

"What do you see?" she asked.

Harry looked closely and found the subtext projected through Lily's voice. It was the magic. It was being turbulent but very clearly had a source form where it was erupting.

"It's coming from within the Earth," Harry said in surprise.

"Look closer," Lily whispered.

It was a white light, pulsing from the centre of the Earth. The closer Harry looked at it, the further it got, until he was looking at a galaxy with white light linking planets and stars, stretching on to the far ends of the universe where there was nothing but pure light, bursting with consciousness looking for material forms. Through the light, Harry saw, infinite probabilities were being created faster than the speed of light. Life and magic was a small part of its wonder and mystery.

There was no I. If the absence of time made life empty, what was it without an identity? It was just drifting unidentifiable consciousness and the next question that arose was, what was it's purpose? He had circled back to the origin of the question behind his quest.

"Come back Harry." Lily's warm voice filtered through his blinded eyes and he sprang back into the classroom with a gasp. He was sweating and trembling.

The truth, Harry. Is not pure," Lily said with a hush. "Underneath that pure hypnotic light, lies the most desperate subconscious need to feel alive. To breath in life. To flourish and prosper against all odds in a harsh universe. And that is the desire that is common to all life, Organic life is the material manifestation of a subconscious energy that happens to exist in our galaxy.

"Your identity is just a perspective born through an external stimuli along for a ride through life before you return to source by the grace of death."

Harry was silent for a while. It was difficult to process. Magic, Lily was saying, in essence, was insignificant in the scheme of the source. It didn't matter if he mastered it or even understood it. It was just a tool created for life to feel alive. It was a wonderful blanket meant to further shield the eyes of humanity against the cold hard truth.

Their identities didn't matter. Their conquests and achievements didn't matter. Whether they felt gratitude for being alive and contributed to the growth of nature didn't matter. Even if the planet was destroyed it wouldn't matter.

Life was just a battle against eventual Death. Even for him. He remembered his ideals. Judging people by the way they used magic and deciding their worth. And now he had to learn that even that, didn't matter. He didn't matter at all.

"Don't feel so down Harry," Lily chided. "You need to see the positives."

Harry scoffed. "What positives?"

"That you're still alive and have the power to explore the infinite probabilities of your galaxy that will challenge and defy your imagination. You're a three dimensional being in a ten dimensional universe Harry. All you need to do now is make a choice. Your power and will brought you here and me to you. It will be your power and will that will take you back and send me back to the source to exist as part of the single universal subconscious energy."

Harry wanted to say something. Some words of comfort, but they were all choked up in his heart.

"What if I decide to destroy this world to aim for the stars?" Harry burst out. He felt tears build up in his eyes. He didn't want to say goodbye.

"Do what you think is right Harry," Lily said gently. "That's all that matters. The Universe has a way of maintaining balance. It's that aspect of the universe that Seer's attempt to read into and interpret. Just don't forget to think with your heart at times. It's important for you to be whole you know. Maybe get yourself a girlfriend!" she joked.

She was fading away. The walls of the classroom were turning into mist.

"I'm the most wanted man on the planet right now," Harry said sarcastically. "I…" Harry woke up on the cold stone of the cave filled with the mist from the valley.

He lifted his head and look out with bleary eyes at the mist, illuminated only by the star light in the absence of a moon.

"Rest in peace, Mom," he said and closed in eyes in silent gratitude.

* * *

Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed. The mist no longer affected him and he pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He had to move. He needed to feel something real.

Harry stumbled out on the hillside and fumbled for his wand. He needed light and the Void needed some rest. The smoother, more calm and focused power of his wand would be enough for now.

Light streamed out of his wand and Harry was quick to notice the lack of sound or breeze. There was no moon, just a star speckled sky with a faint luminosity whose source he could not detect.

He took measured steps and levitated with precise movements up the rugged terrain. He wanted a view. He felt like he was on an alien world. There was no life, no sound and yet he knew he was being watched in the dark.

Had his dip into the source changed the Badlands? A smile brightened his mood as he replayed meeting his mom in the most sacred place in the verse of magic.

As he navigated the surprisingly high peak, his perception of magic began to change. There wasn't any hidden meaning or source to magic. It was, just as the name meant, an energy that created magic in the lives of the conscious. And what Harry hated about society was that they used that energy to do more harm that continue to evolve to better understand and elongate their short stay on the planet.

He reached the peak and finally found the moon. It was low and red on the other side of the mountain and calmly illuminated a dead, crooked forest stretching before him all the way to what vaguely looked like a black mountain blotting out the stars in the sky.

He took a step forward onto the water starved land and felt the Void return to him, alert and more powerful than ever.

Confidence built in him like an awakening deep sea tsunami and he began to walk, his eyes fixed on the black mountain.

The Void floated quietly beside him, watching out for possible predators.

All this time, he didn't feel anything from the Badlands. But now, it felt pure alien. He couldn't describe the feeling except that it put all his defences up and alert to the possibility of death.

His Mind went into overdrive. First the Mist and now a Graveyard of dead trees. No, it was a concept of death.

Harry then realised there was still no sound.

Apart from his own footsteps over the dusty earth and his soft exhales, Sound was still completely absent from the Badlands. The air seemed to exist just around him.

The Moon continued to climb in the sky, becoming a brighter as it glided in total Vacuum.

Harry teleported towards the mountain and covered far more distance than he ever had before. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before. He felt whole and silently thanked his mom again. That encounter had been real. It was not an illusion. He began to build faith around it.

The ground ahead steeped into a few more hillocks and Harry noticed a house tucked away on one of the cliffs.

A few leaps more through space and Harry was facing two towering stone monoliths holding between them two metal gates bound together with a locked chain.

Harry looked to either sides of the entrance as saw open space through which the dead trees continued their grim perception unabated. He couldn't see far ahead except for the massive shadow of the house under the moonlight. He entertained the idea of breaking in but immediately felt that was unwise. He was in a alien land a bubble burst away from being exposed to the deathly environment.

So, like any other guest, he made a fist and knocked, hoping for a response.

There was no sound and instead, a noticeable pulse of light formed around his first and were absorbed by the monoliths.

A light turned on in the house.

Harry's heart quickened. Looked like someone was home. He couldn't help but smile in excitement. He loved these kind of situations.

The chain unlocked itself and the gates opened silently.

Harry walked in, trying to imagine what the being in the house was like.

Once inside, a path was illuminated by glowing lines of blue along the pathway edges. The way itself was made of marble.

The five minute walk up to the entrance of the house turned the dead forest into one that seemed to have the beginning of life and when he reached the oak door of the quaint three storey house made out of carved rocks and wood, did the forest transform into a garden of snoozing fruit trees and vast expanses of soft grass.

Yet there was still no sound.

He knocked on the door. And at his first touch it opened smoothly.

A rush of warm air and smell of cinnamon hit with a refreshing blast.

He heard the faint sound of music playing and walked into a room, it's floor covered with soft carpet and walls adorned with hooks and sinks. The edges at the bottom of the walls adjacent to the entrance had a sort of drain with steel taps fixed close to the floor.

The door behind him closed with a soft thud and he noticed a sign behind it.

 _Freshen up,_ it read.

The wall on the opposite end had an opening covered by a curtain.

Harry smiled. Someone was home and seemed to be of the welcoming variety. He sighed in relief. He was in no mood for conflict. He had lost the appetite for it.

He washed his feet and face and cast a spell to freshen up his clothes. There were no mirrors to check his appearance and he ran his wet hands through his hair.

He went through the curtain and walked into a dining room brightly lit with floating candles. A table was placed near the windows facing the black mountain and was adorned with fruits and bread.

There was still no one around and Harry, with some caution, walked over and picked out a banana. He was feeling a bit peckish.

He then turned his gaze from the sight of the black mountain and observed the room.

The stone walls were covered with tapestries showing lineages and neatly lined up tables and shelves contained artefacts and books.

In the clean and seemingly untouched environment, the gap in one of the books on a shelf near the doorway leading into the interiors of the house stood out.

Harry's eyes widened.

He reached into his pockets and removed the book in he had found in Avalon's library. It fit into the gap perfectly and now Harry was trembling with excitement. Could this be the home of the author?

The white curtain leading inside fluttered and a woman walked inside.

Harry blinked twice to make sure he was seeing right.

She was wearing a sleeveless casual gown that ended above her ankles with had a white hood that was up and shadowing her face. A white pearl rope was tied around her waist that accentuated her figure. What surprised Harry was her light blue skin and murky green eyes.

She faced him and pulled down her hood, revealing long black hair, left loose and lightly floating as if cheekily defying gravity.

"Thanks for returning my book," she said warmly in an accent Harry found hard to place.

"You're welcome," Harry replied. "Thanks for letting me in."

She nodded. Harry noted her angular features. It felt like she wasn't really seeing him and was just acknowledging his presence.

"It's been a while since a human has reached this dimension."

Harry looked at her curiously and she smiled. Her murky eyes began to clear and she looked at him deeply, as if reading him.

"Let's go to the terrace and talk," she said. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Tea," Harry replied.

She snapped her fingers and lead him to a door near the dining table which he hadn't noticed before and through it, they walked into a large balcony that was lined along the corners with exotic succulents and flowering plants.

A white orb hung above the doorway, adding light to the glow of the red moon, now high up in the sky.

There was a high table and couple of chairs near the railings that showed a spectacular view of the valley below, peppered with dead trees, their crooked branches creating strange shadows under the moonlight.

"My name's Harry Potter," Harry said, taking a seat and picked up the steaming tea cup. He sipped it and sighed in bliss.

"Morrigan MacFusty," she acknowledged in return. "I'm the Gatekeeper."

"What is this place?" Harry asked. "Is it real or metaphysical?"

"Well," she said. "It's not all in your mind if that's what you mean. You're in an alternate dimension. Why you're here is a question you need to ask yourself."

"I was looking for the source of magic."

"Ah," Morrigan exhaled. She leaned forward and summoned a cup of tea for herself. "You're a wizard. Hmm, makes sense. I must admire your persistence in reaching here. Is Gaia everything you hoped it was?"

"Gaia?"

"The name of this plane of existence."

"I'm undecided," Harry said dryly. "I don't understand the laws governing this place. When you say this an alternate dimension, do you mean displaced in time and space on Earth or is it displaced by distance through space?" What he was asking was, was he on an alien world?

"Well that's a tricky question," she said. She looked towards the black mountain and frowned. "Firstly, you need to stop thinking like a Wizard. Secondly, regardless of time, space or distance, to exist, there needs to be matter. And matter needs time, space and distance. Thirdly, for matter to be perceived, life is required. Where you are is the point where it can be understood by those seeking knowledge and meaning.

"Did you come through the mist or the sea?"

"The Mist," Harry murmured, as he pondered over her words.

Morrigan leaned back in her chair. "What did you learn?"

Harry sighed. "I'm not sure. I have a feeling I'll know when I return."

"Well, It's not my business," she said with a small smile. "What you should know is that there's no easy way leaving this dimension. There have been many who have explored Gaia and found nothing. They chose to turn back the way the came and had to endure terrible hardships to find an exit. The rare few that to make it here, have a choice. One, turn back the way you came, endure hardships and find an exit. Or keep moving forward and face certain death."

"Er… What?"

She laughed and pointed at the black mountain. "Do you know what that is?"

"A Mountain?"

"That's the Guardian, a black dragon. He feeds of the energy of the gateway."

Harry gasped. "That's a dragon?!" The ones he had been around where much smaller. "Is it friendly?"

Morrigan grinned. "He doesn't like to be disturbed. The MacFusty Clan is tasked with the duty of warning travellers from going that way. "

"Where does the gateway lead?" Harry asked.

"It takes you exactly where you need to go," she said. "Don't try to understand it. It just is."

"So you welcome travellers, feed them and warn them not to go past the dragon and instead, to return home the way the came, satisfied with the answers they have gained, without reaching the ultimate goal which is to travel through the gateway."

"Did you notice the vacuum like nature of the land around you when you came up here?"

"Yes."

"That's because of the Guardian's breathing."

"Impressive," Harry said. He had already made up him mind. The challenge was far too tempting to resist.

"You have a powerful spirit. I have no doubt you'll succeed in going through."

"Thanks," Harry muttered. He gazed at the black dragon thoughtfully. Now that he knew it was a dragon, he realised he was looking at its tail. It's body rose into the clouds which hung close to the ground.

"Are you human Morrigan?" he asked suddenly. The question had been scratching the back of his mind.

"Human?" Morrigan laughed. "I exist by the strength of my will and purpose of my clan. What you see, is the form I am comfortable with."

Harry had learned by now, beings of great strength and knowledge were annoyingly cryptic. "Did you write your books when you were alive?" he quizzed. He wanted as many answers as he could get.

"The books are a culmination of the knowledge gathered by my clan over eons of existence. Their pages are continuously filled. I imagine I'll be adding a chapter about your arrival and departure soon enough.

"Anyway, you're welcome to stay here for a moon cycle. After that you have to leave. You may use the guest room on the third floor and are welcome to browse through the library."

"Wait," Harry said. "I have many more questions."

"Well, You're welcome to devour the library if you have the time. I have places to be and lost travellers to guide out of this dimension. We'll meet again when it's time for you to depart and if you still have questions, ask me then."

Harry nodded his acceptance and spent some time, in her company, in silence and deep thought. He wondered if time flowed in the same manner as back on Earth and when he looked at her to ask she was gone.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the moon cycle browsing through all he could find about the source, magic, existence and the universe. He read about alternative realities, time travel, death and rebirth, evolution and what lay ahead, creation and destruction.

He wished he could stay longer, but soon, time ran out, distorted though it was.

The moon had risen and fallen three times and maintained darkness throughout. Today, it didn't rise and instead, the sky just kept getting brighter and gentle life returned to the gardens.

"It's time," Morrigan said. "Follow me."

She led him to the floor of meditation and pushed one of the stones in the wall. It smoothly opened and revealed a softly lit tunnel leading downward. "It will take you close to the Guardian. From there be on your guard and try not to die. The trauma will make it difficult for you to have a chance to hold on to your identity after death."

Harry nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Do you have any more questions?" she asked lightly. She knew he wouldn't.

Harry laughed.

"Good luck," she said with a smile and the door closed.

Harry was grateful. He had learned so much. If ever, he had to reflect on his journey through the Source, it would be with complete satisfaction.

Even if he died now, he knew not to be afraid. It was not the end.

* * *

A/N: Do write your thoughts on the story so far before you go!


	54. Ground Zero

**Ground Zero**

 ** _The Settlement by the Sea, Time Unknown_**

Sirius Black was a tragic story. The outcast and disappointment of his dark magic fanatical family; the member of a secret organisation that cost him everything he held dear and now - a man trapped in a desert by his own godson whom he had failed.

The only thing that kept him going was the deluded idea that he was a good man despite all that he had survived. He never wanted to hurt anybody. In fact, all he cared about was laughs.

He was sitting by the edge of the sea, his feet planted in the wet sand, sinking deeper by the will of the gentle waves washing the surface of the sand.

He could see Azkaban clearly now. It's black walls rising high, radiating a malevolent energy that the dementors fed on during the day. Even the muggles could feel it.

Daphne had already left to find Harry. He had tried to stop her and show her that she was more useful and wanted in the Settlement, but there was no changing her mind. He felt she had lost her hold on reality.

Sirius sighed.

Without Daphne, he was unsure where the settlement would go. Despite her young age, she had captured the hearts and minds of all, and created a safe haven for all kinds of humans with bias or prejudice. She had injected in the survivors, the will to keep surviving. Without her, it was up to him, as one of the first settlers to ensure the camp did not fall into disarray.

It was why he sat by the beach more often nowadays. He had to figure out how to prevent Azkaban from coming into range of their protective magical shield.

Arthur joined him to watch the sun set.

"They left," Arthur said with a sigh. "Daphne was hoping to see you. She had instructions for you."

"They're idiots," Sirius replied sadly. "We have something good going on here. She rebuilt a society and now she's gone to pursue a freaking mad man. She's not going to find peace in that."

"She's hunting for her heart," Arthur said with a smile. "She just doesn't know it."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be corny Arthur. She's just obsessed. He's the one who destroyed her dreams."

"Not just hers," Arthur said quietly. "We've all lost things precious to us."

"Hopefully he's dead," Sirius muttered darkly. Thinking about Harry always put him in a bad mood.

They lapsed into silence, just staring over the ocean at the solitary island and the red horizon that had almost swallowed the sun whole, when suddenly, a tremor rippled under the sands.

"Did you feel that?" Sirius said with a start.

Arthur stood up, his eyes widening with each tremor. "It's coming from Azkaban."

He was right. The island was shaking.

Another violent tremor hit them hard and panic could be heard from the camp as people ran out of their huts and headed towards the beach.

"What's going on!" many shouted in panic.

"Is it an Earthquake?!"

Cracks began to appear in the walls of Azkaban and the sky began to crackle with unnatural electricity.

Everyone was struggling to hold onto their footing as the Desert shook uncontrollably.

And then, to everyone's disbelief, the island exploded into black flames and its shattered rocks spewed into the sky, with fiery smoking trails of debris.

"Take Cover!"

An inhuman screeching sound pierced the skies and brought everyone to their knees with the pain and terrifying nature of the sound.

It was over in a manner of minutes.

The silence that followed was too bizarre to understand and was summed up by Marla; Sirius's shagging partner.

"Well fuck me upside down," she muttered. "Did those creepy monsters just get blown sky high?"

The entire camp had arrived at the beach and were staring at the remains of the sinking island, bubbling poisonously in the sea.

 _"Are they gone?!"_

"What happened?"

The sun had set, and the half full moon cast enough light down on them to notice a body wash up the shore, face down, clothes mangled and missing an arm that was crudely cauterised.

"Is he alive?" someone whispered.

"Move!" The Camp Doc came running.

He flipped the body cover and grimaced and the sight of his sliced face. It looked like something thick and sharp and sliced through his face, taking away one of his eyes.

Sirius stared at the body. He couldn't shake the feeling a familiarity and dread.

"He's still alive," the doc whispered, as he checked for a pulse. "Ada!" he shouted for his assistant. "Levitate him back to the clinic!"

Arthur joined Sirius with a grim look. "It's him isn't it."

Sirius's breath shuddered. He knew who it was despite the state of his mangled face. Emotions whirled inside him chaotically. "Doc!" he shouted. "Keep him sedated but don't bind him."

The Doc frowned and then nodded.

"What do we do?" Arthur asked.

Sirius just burst out laughing. "Ah, Daphne," he chuckled, his mind rueing the irony. "Fate, it seems, keeps denying you your dreams."

Arthur glared at Sirius. There was nothing funny about that.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _Harry._

Her voice held him together in his battle for survival against the black dragon.

 _What if I decide to destroy the world?!_

 _Do what you think is right, Harry._

He had fought with all his might.

 _Harry._

Its breath was not fire but the dark embodiment of fear. He had walked through the painted tunnels and out on the other side unafraid of death. He had realised it was the personification of despair he was to be facing.

He had never been more afraid in his life. And at the bottom of that paralysing fear, he discovered the love in his mother's voice gave him the strength to survive to fight back and make it through the gateway.

The court room was the first memory he had been forced to relive. Those terrible Dementors had revived the terror of the being a magical child under the boot of the Dursley's and that had almost made him give up, surrender to the fear, but _her_ voice pulled him out of the darkness, even as Dragon claw tore through his arm and face, ripping through the void like it were recycled paper.

He tried to burn away the sight of the massive winged creature that had death in place of its eyes.

 _Come back, Harry._

He woke up to his surroundings with a groan and whimpered as his pain returned tenfold.

I'm alive, he thought in amazement. The image of a Dragon the size of a mountain glaring down at him was burned into his eyes and he was afraid to open them.

"Damn, he's moving," a voice muttered.

 _Do what you think is right, Harry. That's all that matters._

Harry opened his eyes and saw a dull grey cloth flapping against the wind. He was in a tent.

A face appeared in his line of sight. A middle-aged man wearing a surgical mask and had gloves on. A doctor? he wondered.

Function was returning to his brain and he instinctively reached out to the void. It was still there and was still strong. He closed his eyes and focused on healing his wounds. His vision felt a bit strange and he wasn't able to feel his right arm.

"Oh my god. Are you healing yourself?!"

The pain subsided but the feeling in his arm didn't return and when he opened his eyes it still felt like he was seeing only half the picture.

He felt numb. The memories returned. The sheer desperation in his battle against the dragon still burned under his skin and he took deep slow breaths. Panic still reigned in his heart.

The dragon hadn't just sliced through him, it had cut through his arm and had almost taken his head to if not for him pouring all his magic into protecting it.

Luckily the impact force had hurled him through the portal and into oblivion, away from the deathly grasp of the black dragon.

He now knew what it was like to be in a one-sided fight on the losing side.

Harry stared at the flapping cloth numbly. It was dark out and the tent was lit with numerous candles and lanterns. A cool breeze wafted through the tent and calmed his frayed nerves.

He pushed down the phantom sensation of having a right arm and used his left to sit up. He'd deal the physical damage later.

"Hey!" the Doc shouted in alarm. You shouldn't be moving."

Harry looked at the man. A tired looking middle aged fair man with dirty blonde hair wearing a white lab coat and dirty grey clothes. He had removed the mask.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, breathing slowly. His body ached with fatigue and as his encounter with death and fear faded into the background of memories, new questions began to form in his mind.

The Doc smiled, "We call it the Settlement by the Sea and we owe you a great debt."

Harry frowned. That didn't make any sense. "What?"

"You destroyed Azkaban, didn't you?" he asked.

Azkaban; the wizard prison guarded by those vile Dementors.

"Oh!" Harry gasped. Suddenly the nature of the dragon and its connection to this reality made sense. A cold sweat trailed down his back when he realised that's where the portal had taken him: into the heart of Azkaban!

When he had felt that ice cold sensation of looming despair in the portal, he now realised it had the nest of Dementors feeding of the energy of the Black Dragon through the portal. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the tent was screaming and lashing out with every fibre of his being and will to survive.

That revelation hadn't been written in any book and Morrigan had not mentioned it in any of their brief chats. Bitch, he thought with annoyance. All she had said was it would take him where he needed to go. No wonder no one ever chose to go through that portal. Did Bellatrix know about this, he wondered. And if she did, where did she hear about it? Where was that information hidden?

"The Dementors are gone?" Harry asked in return. Had he destroyed them? Was Azkaban another portal to the Badlands? Had he destroyed the portal?

"We don't know but now is the time they usually turn up and they haven't yet which means it's a good chance you succeeded. What's your name? How did you end up on the island? And how the fuck did you destroy it?!"

Harry stared at the man, surprised by the burst of questions. He didn't feel annoyed by them, which, he noted, was new. That thought made him grin.

"My name is Harry Potter," he said and the watched carefully for the reaction.

The Doc went still, and the colour drained from his face. "O-oh, I see," he stammered. "Are you here to destroy us too?"

"Relax," Harry said. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm not a psychopath."

The Doc took a deep breath and nodded, choosing to ignore that last bit. "Duly noted," he said weakly. "I see now why Sirius said what he said."

"Sirius Black?" Harry asked sharply.

"Y-yes."

 _It will take you where you need to go._ Morrigan's words echoed.

"So, he survived," Harry muttered. Sirius was with him at the trial. Who else had survived? "Where is he?"

"Well Azkaban's fall has created quite the confusion among everyone. We're in a medical tent on the outskirts of the camp, close to the distortions until things settle down."

Harry latched on to the word distortion. So, he was back in the desert in a camp where Sirius Black had made camp. Was it just a coincidence? He had stopped believing in coincidences after they had led him to the Badlands.

He slid of the makeshift bed and tested his leg strength.

"You should really take it easy," the Doc warned. "You've lost an arm and an eye and god knows how much blood. You need to take time and come to terms with it."

"I _have_ come to terms," Harry replied shortly. He focused magic into his palm and summoned his wand from his personal pocket dimension and conjured a full length floating mirror.

"Wow," the Doc gasped.

The damage wasn't too bad, Harry mused. There was deep scar rising from his jaw and cutting through his old almost faded lightning bolt scar. His eye was a mangled cauterised black hole and felt a phantom pain behind it.

His clothes had been changed to a white gown and he stared at the empty sleeve where his right arm was supposed to be.

"Damn," he sighed and transfigured the gown into grey trousers and a sleeveless shirt. He wanted his deformity not to be hidden. He was probably the only known survivor that came through the portal guarded by the dragon. He left a strange sense of pride in that.

"Err, that's not a good idea. You need clothes to suit the weather and the night is pretty damn cold. Our tent is protected by a warming spell… oh, right, you probably have one protecting yourself." The Doc laughed. "You know, so far, you don't seem like the picture Daphne painted for us."

Harry's eyes widened, and he banished the mirror and looked at the Doc with surprise. "Daphne Greengrass? She's here too?"

 _It will take you where you need to go._ Morrigan's words echoed again.

"She was," the Doc replied nervously. Maybe he should stop talking, he thought to himself warily. He rambled a lot when he was nervous. Sirius could have mentioned the fact that his patient was a legit mass murderer before sending him to the far edge of the camp.

Harry sat back down on the bed and absently massaged the stump of his right arm. "Daphne," he murmured. Now that his green was actively interacting with the rest of his colours, Harry was drawn in his memories of her.

She had been a manipulative Slytherin that who had wormed her way into his mind during the Hogwarts days. She was the only one whom he could almost call a friend.

He couldn't predict what he would feel when he met her again. So much had changed. Had she evolved as well?

"Wait," he said suddenly. The Doc's last words penetrated his swirl of memories. "What do you mean _she was?_ "

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _ **A/N: Thanks to all you reviewers for the great feedback last chapter!**_


	55. A New Purpose

**A New Purpose**

Daphne Greengrass had come a long way from being the icy Slytherin whose sole purpose was vengeance on those who had wronged her. It had been a simple vision until the day fate cursed her to meet Harry Potter in a bookstore.

She should have realised back then, that, that crazy look in his eyes coupled with obsession with solitude meant nothing but trouble.

 _"It was the crazy that drew you in Daph,"_ her subconscious mocked. _"It was the same as yours!"_

"Shut up," Daphne muttered.

"What?" Hermione asked startled. Her journey from Hogwarts to being back in the desert out of her free will was quite an adventure. Ever since Hogwarts had been cut of from communication, she had noticed her mind and morals evolving noticeably until she shed the skin of transition and emerged a stronger person.

She was the only other who had chosen to go with Daphne. No one else dared to face the brutal desert for a quest Daphne had made quite clear was about finding Harry. Face the psychopath who had created the Desert in a fit of rage? they had thought in bewilderment. They were thankful to Daphne for creating the settlement, but accompanying her into the desert with out any real aim was suicide.

"Nothing," Daphne muttered, staring ahead at the endless desert, letting memories wash over her.

 _"Don't sully yourself with those with intelligence below yours Daph. Find those whose quality and intelligence is above yours. Stay in their radius and strive to match them until you're looking down on them. There will always be someone above you Daph. You need to rise above them all."_

Daphne had known it was a suicidal ask when she proposed her flimsy idea and she hadn't expected anyone to join her but knowing it for real pinched her ego.

"The way you're scowling suggests its more than nothing," Hermione commented dryly.

Daphne rolled her eyes. It had been maybe five sunrises since they had left the camp and so far it had been relatively easy finding oasis's and scattered vegetation. It was almost as if the desert sensed their firm will and was bending toward it.

"I was just wondering why I never saw this coming," Daphne said. "I sure spent enough time around him."

Hermione laughed; amused. "No one could have predicted this Daphne."

Hermione had survived in the Desert thanks to Snape. And in the Settlement, she lost all hope of a revival of her world. Now, her world view was centred around one thought, that gave her power. The Desert was unchartered land. She was going to learn all that she could about it and she needed a way to get Harry Potter talking about it. She didn't really care if he lived or died. She knew it didn't matter anymore.

Daphne sighed. Maybe it was time to confess. "Partly," she said, "All this is my fault. I put the wheels in motion when I blew up Malfoy Manor. Things just sort of snowballed from there. It's funny how a few murders can cascade into a natural disaster."

Hermione stopped in her tracks and goggled at Daphne. "What? It was you?" Hermione was surprised. "Huh, I had no idea you were capable of that." She resumed her walk and increased her pace showing she was mildly affected by that revelation.

Daphne jogged to step into pace. It was nearing the afternoon and their cooling spells were losing their cohesion. Sweat began to pour down their necks and they adjusted their hats and renewed the cooling charms. The yellow Desert burned unforgivingly and yet the two woman continued to steady walk, heading towards not a location but a purpose held together by similar wills.

They were armed with Madam Barb's all weather grey pants and shirt with additional pocket dimensions carved into their pockets. It was where they kept their supplies to survive the inhospitable desert.

"I had expected a more bitter reaction you know."

"Will it change anything?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"No, I guess not," Daphne replied thoughtfully. "Although the fact that I told Harry and he reacted with amusement was the clearest warning I should have heeded."

Daphne felt a slap on the back of her head hard. "Ow!" she cried indignantly. "Really? You react at that?"

"You had _that_ big a crush on him?!"

"I did not!" Daphne defended. Hermione's glare grew more pointed. "Alright, fine, I might have, but that's all in the past now. Now I just want to find him because I'm sick of being a leader for a fucking settlement to help people to survive with bare minimum! I want out and all that I can think of doing is find Harry and decide if I want to…!" Her voice trailed into nothingness as his soft voice echoed through her memories.

"Only the strong survive. The weak are erased by the strong. Are you weak or are you strong, Daphne?"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and shook her head disappointingly. "All this for a psychopath."

"He's not!" Daphne began in a raised voice and she immediately cooled herself. This was no reason to get worked up. They were just remnants of buried emotions. "He's not a psychopath. That I know for a fact," she finished quietly.

Hermione's eyes softened. It was more than a crush. It was a bond that was broken without an explanation. Her mind drifted to her own with Cedric. "I'm sorry," she apologised.

"It's," Daphne struggled for words. "I had wanted to use him for my own goals," she admitted. Her subconscious drew up the picture of her in front of her mirror, dreaming about ruling over the magical world with the blood purists grovelling at her heel. It was a juvenile dream. "And instead he tore it all down without warning," Hermione said, finished Daphne's sentence.

"It's a bad joke," Daphne said dryly.

The air began to distort and Daphne and Hermione grabbed each other's arms. "Here it comes," Hermione said warily.

The distortion dislocated them from space and they stumbled into a ruined concrete jungle. Shadows of scattered ruins of skyscrapers crisscrossed on the desert floor and in the midst of stable structures, thousands of make shift homes and vendors selling wares being guarded by men and women armed to the teeth with stolen guns and knifes.

It was noisy. Voices were raised and materials clanged. The heat was sweltering and everyone was covered with patched up clothes with hoods or hats.

"Wow," Hermione summed up and Daphne nodded in agreement with wide eyes. "I haven't seen these many people in ages," she muttered. "Feels kinda stifling. Is this London?"

"Let's keep moving," Hermione muttered. They were gaping at it wasn't wise to attract attention.

They quietly transfigured their hats into hoods and drew them up.

Curious eyes were already on them, observing with caution, muttering amongst themselves, judging if they were prey or predators.

* * *

Harry counted himself among the impressed as he walked through the camp observing the method this camp had chosen for survival. He saw methods to harvest water, contractions pulling schools of fish into a pond to snatch out off, simple homes held firm by simple runes and his favourite, a place for the weak to die, an unwritten rule that said, if you don't meet the basic requirement of self sustenance, you're not welcome here. It was a place governed by simplistic survival and harmony in human society.

"Brilliant," he whispered. It was neatly done.

In the middle of the camp, Muggles and Wizards lived together and that brought about a mixed feeling in Harry, particularly because of his violent experience in the muggle world. But he had learnt to let go of the past. He had travelled in a full circle, through the heart of consciousness and emerged in reality with the ability to feel and interpret his own emotions instead of learning from the colours of others.

The path forward was clear to him. He had to end what he had begun. The foundation stones of the next phase of evolution was set and he had to see the transition through.

He looked at the turbulent chaos of runes in the sky and focused on carefully interpreting what they were saying or doing. It was clearer to him than before and he found something peculiar.

"We're here," the Doc said. They had reached one of the larger huts that looked more like an image of a crudely constructed monastery roughly shaped like a pyramid. Beyond it's physical form, Harry saw the runes that held it firm and those that seemed to have an influence on the mind? He frowned and looked deeper.

The runes were those that guided logic and reason. Interesting, he mused. A temple to make rational decisions without the influence of aggressive emotions.

The Doc led him into a room with warm interiors. There were three fireplaces burning with a low intensity. The flame was green and Harry noticed the runes and eternal warmth carved into the bottom of the hearth.

There was a round table made of crystallised sand placed roughly in the centre of the room and the remaining corners gathered dust.

The fractures and fissures in the table split the light into dim sharp edged shapes on the ceiling.

There were two empty chairs at the table and Sirius waved at the Doc, inviting him to join them.

Above the table hung a chandelier lit with a dozen powerful undying candles.

"Hey, Harry," Sirius began. His voice empty of emotion.

"Is this how you greet newcomers to your camp?" Harry replied and took a seat. Next to him was a woman and he looked briefly at the colours that made them and smiled lightly. Their colours were strong. Even Sirius had changed from the wimp he remembered in to a spirit determined to leave the past behind and move on.

"We saved your life. Isn't that the best greeting around these days?" said the woman with short brown hair, tied back into a neat pony. Her voice was young and her colours reflected intelligence and determination.

"Please don't pretend around me," Harry said sharply. "I can see the hostility clear as day inside you. "I am the one who destroyed your world. And yet, I am the one who destroyed Azkaban; the threat that was looming over you with a suffocating grip and thus, you're unsure of what to do with me."

Harry leaned forward and looked around the table, his eyes glittering with a new found perspective. "I just have a few questions to ask and after that we can part ways without restoring to bloodshed."

Silence reigned supreme in a moment dominated by the aura of Harry's power.

"Oh boy." Sirius barked a laugh and broke the tension that had choked the breath out of their lungs. "I think this is the first time you've spoken longer than a sentence around me!"

A sense of annoyance creeped into Harry so he leaned back and waited. He had said what he wanted to say, the ball was in their court now.

"Daphne was right," said the young woman with awkward amusement. "He's direct."

"Why don't we start with introduction, eh?" Arthur interrupted diplomatically. "Harry," he continued, "Meet the governors of this camp. Mrs Barb, our resident tailor, Oliver; he's a wand maker, Jenna; she's an engineer, you know Sirius and you've already met the Doc. I'm Arthur; you might have met my son Ronald at Hogwarts." He pointed at each person as he spoke their names and Harry noticed an ache in his green when he spoke the name of his son.

Ronald, the name ringed a bell. "Arthur Weasley?" he guessed.

Arthur nodded.

Fred and George Weasley's father, he connected. The famous twins of Gryffindor. He wondered what had become of them.

"And everyone," Sirius continued. "Please met Harry Potter, the Disaster."

Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You're calling me a disaster?"

"Aren't you?" Sirius retorted. "Disasters are usually accompanied by unparalleled death and destruction."

"Let's not get side tracked, Sirius," Arthur interjected. "Harry, we know what you did and are not here to judge you for it. Not right now, anyway. What we want from you is a way out of this catacombed desert and a hope that there is a world that still exists outside somewhere."

Harry leaned back in his chair and drank their words in. The revulsion at being forced to ask him politely shone through their desperation to find a way out.

"When I first conceived the idea of turning this world in a desert. I imagined it as a place where Darwins law held true. I thought I would find…. something," he said softly. His eyes glazed as he thought back to the moment he had unleashed the spell and to the moment he came back through Azkaban.

"And did you find what you were looking for?" the brown haired woman, whom he now identified as Jenna, asked with a bite of sarcasm.

"I wouldn't be back here if I didn't."

"Does that mean you'll help? Will you reverse this curse?" Oliver, the young wandmaker asked with annoyance. He hated stories. Ollivander had always bemoaned that fact.

"Why do you want me to? Compared to the world you left behind, this world is without bias, without the cynicism and racism of society. Here, you are free to live, if you are capable of it. And if you're not, death is a welcome escape. What is it, that you gain in the old world that you cannot gain in this one?"

"It's a fucking desert Harry," Sirius snapped.

"It's not a desert," Harry replied quietly and yet his words travelled. "It's a game that exposes your weaknesses and forces you to confront it. If you overcome it, you get to live and thrive if you chose to. It's a game of survival and you have the tools to play it."

Barb scoffed. "Forgive me boy, but life is not just about survival. Our lives are not yours to play with!"

"I never intended to make you it's participants," Harry retorted. "It was a game designed for me. It was you people who forced me to trap you within it."

They knew what he was talking about - The Trial. Voldemort. Society's weakness for being manipulated.

"Your society was stuck in a loop. It was a disease spreading and eating away at the planet and it's magical force. You would have run yourselves into extinction if not for a chance to start over." Harry took a deep breath. He could see it clearly now. "If you had any sense, you would be thanking me for ensuring the planet survives."

"The planet _is_ dying boy," Barb interjected acidly. "You're so wrapped up in your delusions that you can't see past your own ego. You're naive if you think you're the cure for the darkness of humanity. You're just a psychopath who was gifted with undeniable power."

"I _earned_ my power," Harry retorted. "I earned my right to survive in your cruel world. And you're wrong if you think the planet is dying. I've seen the runes in the sky and they're not spelling out death. They are forcing evolution. I was just a vessel to channel the will of the source."

"The Source?" Jenna spoke up curiously. Hermione had given her the diary and she had seen that word scribbled repeated when she leafed through it's contents. "What is it?"

Harry paused and gathered his thoughts for a moment. He had travelled far to find an answer to that question. Should he just give it away? he wondered.

"It's the metaphorical heart of the planet," he summarised. "It's the source of our life in a universe dominated by death. Everything that we perceive, from inanimate to animate, is a manifestation of it's desire to experience life.

"The planet want's to be alive and human society was stupid enough to try and destroy it. Did you really think it would not fight back? It did, through me."

"You're just crazy… Harry," Sirius laughed dryly.

Harry chuckled. "Maybe so, but the game is not over just yet. I started this and I'm going to end it," he said firmly. That thought was clear in his head.

There were a few gasps and whispers.

Arthur, with dread pooling in his gut, asked gently, "And how does it end?"

Harry laughed. "We won't know it until we get there."

"We?" Jenna caught on.

Harry looked at her and into her eyes, reading her colours as they interpreted his words and tied them to her research. He could see the wheels turning, reaching one conclusion after another, until her eyes widened in understanding.

"You're not in control anymore," she gasped.

Harry grinned. "Here's what I think," he said. There was a hint of passion driving his voice. "Based on what I could interpret. There's an engine driving this enchantment and it's getting stronger with the perception of time. There's also some kind of gap in the runes of the enchantment which indicates the spell is incomplete. Perhaps I had foreseen, in my subconscious, the need to leave a gap to complete the enchantment with an evolved perspective."

"Or we fill that gap with a spell to reverse it's effects," Jenna countered. Her eyes shown with worry as they all finally understood what Harry was hinting at.

It was a race to the finish and if they let Harry get there first, with his insane ideas of evolution and survival, it probably wouldn't bode well for them.

"Now," Harry said with a deep breath, he had been quite accommodating so far. "Tell me about Daphne. I hear she built this place. Is it true?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: The Journey to the End Begins!**_


	56. Strings of Fate, Entwined

**String of Fate, Entwined.**

 _'You have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and you've been brought up in hate and pain. You're not rash like Gryffindor and neither are you manipulative like Slytherin. You're ruled by emotions and you need to learn about emotions if you are to choose a path. The question is; are you capable of undoing the damage done to your mind or will you continue to wallow in hate and become a true monster.' - The Sorting Hat._

 ** _The Settlement, Time Unknown_**

Harry's conversation with the Council after he brought up Daphne was short.

At best, in between common words like Goodwill, Determination, Desire for revenge, resistance, natural born Leader; Harry deciphered guilt rampant in most of their emotions.

Daphne had asked for help - to find him by travelling in the treacherous desert, and they had all fallen prey to their selfish desire to survive.

Sirius was the only one openly bitter about it. "It's your fault if she dies out there," he had said harshly.

It had no effect on Harry. To him, it was simple, the Desert had shown them who they really were. Everyone served their own desires and the commonalities in them was what held them together.

Daphne had held them together because, he knew, deep down, she desired status, to be a leader; and was willing to go the murky mile to get there. She wanted to prove, that as numero-uno, she would be revered by her subjects, and in the Desert, she had marvellously succeeded at that.

He understood now, what he saw in her then, when they had created a faint bond of familiarity in the Hogwarts library.

She had left because the all-important by-product of wealth was missing from the desert. She had come to a plateau where the power of influence and administration was dull for her.

And that was what mused Harry. Why could she not see the beauty in the Desert? It was a canvas for creation and she could have gone even further but instead, she was drawn to the past, to him, for answers that didn't exist.

"It's this way."

After agreeing to stay in the camp without causing trouble or hurting anyone who'd want to hurt him for creating the desert, the Council adjourned and Jenna volunteered to show him where he could set up shelter.

She had led him in silence, a torch in hand, her colours brewing with curiosity and a changed perspective. She wanted to say something but wasn't able to formulate a neutral opening statement.

Harry smiled. His skill at interpreting perceptions through aura had taken a leap forward.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, deciding to break the silence.

"You're not what I expected at all," she burst out and then blinked in slight embarrassment. "I mean, you seem rational but it boggles my mind that a rational mind could conceive this," she said with a sweep of her hands around the desert.

Harry thought about it for a moment and the answer was quite clear. "The limits of rationality is proportional to the power at your disposal."

Jenna scoffed. "That rational is called insanity, Harry. We've all thought about this but crossing that line is a no-no. We know it's a line of no return."

"The inverse still applies," Harry replied with a shrug. "Interesting still, why do you think my reasons for creating the desert is something we've all thought about? Specifically what do you mean we?"

"Oh, come on Harry," she laughed. "Being feed up with society? Wanting to kill uber pampered assholes who treat the gift of life like shit? Wishing to control the world and having the power to wipe it clean? Every rational being on the planet has those thoughts and dreams," she said sarcastically. "You're not as special as you think you are. You just have the power to believe you are."

Harry laughed in amusement as he understood her grievance. "You're not upset that I crossed the line. You're upset because you never found your way to that kind of power. Well, don't feel too down. This Desert is not a curse."

"Yea, it's a game. I heard you before," she grunted in annoyance.

"It's also a game where you can make your dreams come true," Harry said gently. "If you look past the ugly struggle that is. I found out the hard way. The only way to play is to shed your fears."

"Duh, that's obvious," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Magic is real. I think we all non-magical's can agree it was introduced to us in a horrific way. Anyway, what's done is done. My point is, being rational as you are, couldn't you think of a better way of forcing evolution?"

"My perspective at that point in time was unique," Harry said quietly and sub-consciously accepted that a better perspective could have been possible. "It was a direct result of the effect of my past which seems to be catching up with the present. It's almost as if my future is just a combination of a paradox."

"I guess," Jenny said thinking deeply. "And paradoxes are circumstances that you can't predict, hence can also be called the future."

"Then might you agree, that insanity does not exist? Just paradoxes? If so, what does that mean for our existence and evolution?"

"Paradoxes don't usually have an answer or an end, Harry. That's why thinking in the now is important. You've been living in a dream. The real world has far more structure than you know."

They had reached the zone dedicated for new arrivals and Jenna randomly pointed at an empty space.

Harry wilfully chose another behind her and snapped his fingers.

A modest hut formed lazily from the sand into the shape of a hut swirling in a storm and hardened until its molecules were fused together.

"Damn," whispered Jenna. She had seen magic in action only with fancy wand movements or concentrated telekinesis and physics defying activated runes.

Harry felt the urge to show-off. "This is nothing," he said with a smirk. Even though the settlement had begun to play with rudimentary runes closest to the source of magic, they had barely reached the depths he had explored.

"You mean it's bigger on the inside?" Jenna guessed. That wasn't new to her anymore.

It had not occurred to Harry to make the inside bigger. He never found the need to since a shelter was just for rest or sleep.

"No," he said with a frown and didn't elaborate.

Under the moon and star light, Jenna looked at him. Really looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

If she took away the brutal scar across his face, she would have assumed he was maybe between seventeen or nineteen in age, not much younger than her. He wasn't tall and perhaps reached a modest five feet ten, taller than her, built like a sturdy tree missing few parts and yet, exuding strength and intelligence. His eye was especially enchanting. The green in them drew her into his mysterious soul.

He was mistreated and misguided. And yet he had found his way back with grace and poise despite that age the scar across his face added on.

"Are you done examining me?" Harry asked politely.

Jenna started. She hadn't realised she was staring. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling an ember of embarrassment. "Well, goodnight then," she said awkwardly.

Harry gave a small smile and a nod and turned to enter his hut.

"Harry!" Jenna called suddenly, as an idea struck her, and Harry turned around quizzically wondering what she wanted now. "Our research centre is down by the beach," she said. "We could use your help with some stuff we've been developing, if you're willing."

"Maybe later," Harry said after a moments pause. He needed time to mull all that had happened and disappeared inside.

"Oh, ok." Jenna muttered with a blink. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as soon as he disappeared and sighed. "Daphne was right, he's too damn intense. He definitely needs to lighten up."

And she definitely wanted to pick his mind more deeply. He was the key to the door that led to unlimited power.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 ** _London, Time Unknown._**

London had become a dead city of Scavengers, Daphne and Hermione soon realised, as they silently glided through the city, towards signs of magic.

It had found a way to survive and thrive on the garbage disposed by the witches and wizards that now inhabited Gringotts; renamed to 'Doorway to Elysium'.

Hermione and Daphne stared at the name now engraved over the scratched out Gringotts above the heavy metal doors, as the implications of what they had learnt so far filtered through their minds.

There had been a war between wizards and goblins. The goblins were beaten after the dark lord and the rebellion joined hands and together, they now lorded over the wealth of Gringotts, leaving their scraps to those without magic. To enter, the doorway had been replaced with a simple enchanted door that required the faintest grasp on magic to be opened.

"A reformed Dark Lord?" Hermione said doubtfully. They had run into some witches who walked the streets like they owned it who told them about Elysium. The re-founded home of wizards and witches alike.

"Seems to me they're all drunk on wealth and power. Gringotts was always known to harbour treasures unlike any other. Exotic meals too, judging by most of the trash around."

There were corpses around too, withered down to skeletons that cracked under they feet as they walked over them. The Desert wasted no time in consuming the dead.

A figure walked out of the shimmering doorway with a bag slung over his shoulder. It was a young man with messy bleach blonde hair; tall and had a swagger to his steps.

He leaned over the edge of the top of the steps leading to the door and chucked the bag out.

It hit the bone and sand with a crunch and Daphne looked up with shock as recognition rose clearly in her memories.

"Draco Malfoy?" she said in disbelief.

Draco was a bit tipsy from the night before and he had to blink a couple of times to recognise the two women at the foot of the stairs.

"Merlin's balls!" he exclaimed. He hadn't expected them to still be alive. And of course, he recognised them easily. It was Greengrass and the Mudblood.

His eyes roved over their bodies with admiration and he grinned. "Looks like you girls survived this shit-storm without much of a fuss."

"Draco," Daphne replied evenly while Hermione recovered from her shock and glared at him with dislike. "Enjoying the spoils of victory are you?"

"Enjoying the spoils of being alive," Draco corrected with a humorous snort.

"Anyway, I know you don't like me and I'd rather be in the presence of women who _do_ like me, so I'll keep this short. Gringotts is ours and we have some rules - every newcomer gets a thousand galleons to help set things up either above or deep below in the tunnels and from there on out you set up a trade to generate income should you wish to and pay taxes to the high council who in turn will ensure our Elysium is safe and prosperous."

"And _what_ do _you_ do?" Hermione asked.

Draco laughed. "I take out the trash." He gave a one hand salute and sauntered back through the enchanted door.

"What do you reckon?" Hermione asked Daphne. "I'm pretty sure we're not going to find Harry in there."

"Maybe not," Daphne muttered, her brows crunched in thought. "But if this is the path the rebellion chose at the end, I need to see what came out of it."

"The _High_ Council," Hermione sighed. "The name sort of gives it away doesn't it? We're heading into some form of pureblood fanaticism for sure."

"If the world survives, this place is going to be important isn't it? We should check it out. After all, isn't what Draco said how democracy dreams?"

They walked through the enchantment and into a lavish lobby teeming with enchanted colourful fruits floating around, waiting to be plucked out of the air to be eaten and the entrances to the caves had tall booths that housed bank tellers who were dispensing gold with large happy grins.

The ceiling was no longer dome shaped like it looked on the outside but was now the pale white interiors of a tall building whose sky light was a mere dot in the their eyes. Any trace of Goblin Architecture was wiped out and replaced with Renaissance Architecture. The archways for example.

"Wow," Hermione summed up and plucked an apple out of the air. She tested it with her wand and bit into it. "Oh my god," she moaned.

Warm yellow light streamed in front the glass panned high windows and cool air circulated through the lobby. It almost felt like they were standing in heaven after the years of toiling in the desert.

"Fucking unbelievable," Daphne scoffed. "All this wealth and all that they give the muggles outside is filth and garbage. I can't believe the rebellion has fallen to this level."

Deep within her subconscious; her ambition was stoked. This City, here, it was the ultimate prize and that fact that it was ruled by a fucking reformed dark lord and a malformed rebellion, roused the anger in her like a hungry basilisk.

"That's what war does sweetheart," a new, hardened voice interjected from their right.

Daphne and Hermione turned sharply towards the voice and recognised Mad-Eye Moody thanks to his bulging revolving artificial eye.

"Wealth is precious and limited," Moody said with a grunt. "And god knows how long we're going to be stuck here." He levelled his gaze the two of them. "So which one of you Daphne Greengrass and which one is Hermione Granger."

"I'm Daphne," Daphne said icily. "I suppose Draco told you about us. What do you want?"

"Aye, he did," Moody said with a chuckle. "Information is currency after all."

"Can we be on our way or is there something you want Mr Moody?" Daphne repeated, this time with a little aggression.

"What I want to know," he said calmly, "is your story. How did you survive? And are you willing to join our effort to break Potter's curse and restore the world to what it was."

Daphne smiled sweetly. "I'm happy with the way things are, thanks," she said. Hermione goggled at Daphne. "Now if you'll excuse us, we'd like to tour your Elysium."

Moody looked at them calculatingly and then stepped aside and pointed to the teller at the far end of the entrance. "That lad might help you get set up with accommodations," he said and left. He only offered once. They were now free to die however they pleased.

Hermione clenched Daphne's shoulder in anger. "What the hell Daphne? He was a link to the High Council!"

"Fuck the High Council. What we need is information or didn't you hear what he said. Now come on, I know exactly how to spend our Galleons."

* * *

 _ **Review :)**_


	57. Mulling things Over

_An abstract of Aura._

 _Red – Power, Security, Jealousy._

 _Orange – Pleasure, Appreciation, Comfort._

 _Yellow – Status, Authority._

 _Green – Love, Compassion._

 _Blue – Knowledge, Influence._

 _Violet – Clairvoyance, Unification._

 _White - The Source_

 **Mulling things Over**

No one had the patience to speak the language of magic anymore.

They only wanted it translated for them and communicated to others without bothering to understand what was being said.

They need to learn. How will we teach them? Will they remember what survival of the fittest means?

Strange dreams began to take shape in his mind. Images of the past. The desert. Solitude. Magic. The struggle to survive. It all began to warp and create an idea that was once not yet clear to Harry. It was now.

The solution was quite simple. A reboot was needed with the right parameters at its core. All that remained was fitting the final pieces of the puzzle in the right spaces.

He woke up, his body rested, and mind eager to continue the journey whose end was as clear as the crack of dawn.

He left the tent and soaked in the cool breeze aglow in the light of dawn as he head down to the artificial pool by the beach.

He sat on the soft, cool sand and admired the horizon. It was his first time relaxing on a beach.

Harry spent some time letting his mind go idle and just soaked in the light of dawn and the sound of the sea until he felt his stomach growl. He fished out some sea food and cooked it medium rare with a absent minded thought before nibbling it to the bone.

Hunger satisfied, and sustenance met, he finally turned his attention to the spaces where his arm and eye used to be, the spaces he had been ignoring until now.

Their loss did hurt. However, he knew with magic at his command, they could be brought back. The dilemma he was wrestling with was, should he? They were his sacrifices to the Source. The Source; which was far uglier and alien than he could have ever imagined. Emptiness, death and terror. Emotions that fed on the far end of the negative spectrum. And yet, in the midst of it, he had found Light. A Mother and unconditional Love.

It had made a deep impact on his psyche. It had changed him. He now saw the world through a different filter. A film that showed him the end clear as midday. He had to complete his devastating spell. It was his creation and thus his responsibility. But he also felt like it was important for the race of humans to believe they had a choice and thus emerged the idea of the Game. A race to the finish. An End that required a Beginning. A beginning that hinged on Karma.

He rubbed the bandaged stump of his arm and sighed.

While that was his ideal solution, mathematically speaking, a new desire had risen within him. A selfish one. He had seen the places that existed between the folds of space and time. Was he naive enough to think this was it? His mind was enlightened, and the irony was, now he understood how small he was and that thought opened a whole can of perspectives.

The desire to use the enchantment for a way into a new dimension tickled his curiosity. The books in Gatekeeper's library had spoken about a variety of fascinating ones. One in particular had captured his imagination.

He lay back on the sand and looked up at the sky, at the runes that still chaotically raced across from horizon to horizon. He had seen the sheer scale of its power and wonder when he had met his mother.

 _"Do what you think is right, Harry,"_ she had said.

Right at this moment, using the runes to open up a wormhole to a new galaxy of challenges seemed quite exciting. The estimation of the collateral made his green wince in concern, but the idea… the possibilities… they were taking root deep in his orange. He needed his diary to measure the fall out of activating such a magic. There was so much to explore… to understand Gaia. Was it possible to join that stream of white light and materialise in another one of its oceans?

It almost felt like his humanity was now limiting him. It was creating invisible rules that forced him to consider the alternatives. Alternatives to paths without bloodshed.

He sighed and sat back up, awkwardly using one hand, dusting the sand off his newly conjured pant and shirt; a shirt whose one sleeve just flapped in the wind. The sun was getting high and the winds began to turn from gentle to scarring. He walked over to the artificial pond and looked at his reflection.

It wasn't someone he recognised anymore. It was maturity that looked back at him. He had grown up and it made him curious. He washed his face and pushed his hair back. It had grown, and he wanted to trim it down. Had Jenna mentioned if they had a barber around?

He remembered her request and mused now was as good a time as any to check out their research station. She had mentioned it was close to the beach, so he scanned both ends until an odd dome shaped building stuck out further down the beach, away from the settlement.

He teleported and materialised before the igloo like building. It was well constructed, and the use of strong enchantments was clear. The door was locked. It was early still after all.

"Oh, well," he muttered, unlocked it with a flick of his finger and stepped inside.

It was much bigger on the inside. Jenna's comment about bigger on the inside suddenly made sense.

Inside, the walls looked like they were irons sheets bolted into the earth and painted medical room white. The walls were high and stretched into the dark corners of the room. All Harry could see at the moment was the scale of the room thanks to the dim light hanging above the inside of the doorway.

He looked around for a switch of some kind but found none, so he conjured a ball of warm light.

It was just a big empty room that seemed to be built like a bunker.

Harry frowned. Maybe this wasn't the research station after all.

"Who's there?!" a young voice called out sharply and Harry turned around, startled, ready to blast the intruder to oblivion.

When he saw it was the young wandmaker, Oliver, he immediately controlled his attack impulse. "Harry Potter," he answered clearly.

"Oh," Oliver said, surprised. Then he looked up and said, "Lights."

To Harry's surprise, lines of white lights began to flicker on across the ceiling and the bunker began to morph into a structured room with partition walls. Equipment flickered into existence until it was Oliver and him standing in what seemed to be a well-lit and well stocked pantry, complete with a sitting area.

Oliver grinned. So, the monster was capable of being impressed.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked, folding his arms.

Harry pondered for a moment and then, he said, "I'm looking for a barber."

For a moment Oliver stared at him nonplussed. He then looked at Harry's mess of a head and rolled his eyes. "Follow me."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Elysium, Time Unknown**

The first thing Daphne had done was track down Draco in a gambling den within the cave network. The Goblin Carts were still in use and it seemed people who Draco was, so it wasn't difficult tracking him down.

They found him in vault one zero nine a few floors underground rolling in sweat and fire whiskey, in a circle of dirty men and women screaming around a mock wrestling ring, watching two beaten and bruised goblins fighting in honour of death.

Daphne and Hermione wrinkled their noses at the foul smell of the vault. There were dead goblins stacked up in the far corner and a few more chained up beside them, waiting emotionlessly for their turn to entertain and die.

Galleons, Sickles and Knuts were being thrown at the goblins with no remorse and a scarred man was floating above the ring keeping tally of the bets being made with an ugly grin of sadistic amusement.

"Merlin," Hermione gasped in disgust.

Daphne just frowned and kept her wand close and ready. "Let's wait," she muttered to Hermione and gestured at her to follow. Draco seemed quite into the game, shouting and jumping animatedly with the grace of a three-legged hippogriff.

A few men sitting on the floor with drinks and cigarettes looked at them with surprise, their clean clothes made them stand out, but after a quick perverted leer and grin, they turned back to their drinks and ignored them.

Hermione discreetly drew the rune for muffling sound with her wand and instantly the high-pitched screams turned to muffled loud noises.

"Thanks," Daphne said with a sigh. She added the notice me charm as an added measure wandlessly.

If there was one lesson Daphne learnt from Harry, it was - There were no limits when it came to harnessing magic. In the words of the Mahoutokoro - All that matter was intent. And being out, in the desert again, reminded her of her own. She was going to stand toe to toe, as an equal against, Harry and after that, she had no idea what was meant to happen. Her curiosity to know it, drove her magic down fascinating roads. Wandless magic being one of them.

The crowd was beginning to disperse and the two realised it was over and they dropped their spells and moved to intercept a downcast Draco. His Goblin had lost and so were his knuts.

"Hey, Draco!" Daphne shouted.

Draco turned towards them, startled, and upon seeing them, his expression soured as they closed the distance between them.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a scowl. Mentally throwing all the blame on their presence for him losing the game.

"How about we step outside where we can talk," Hermione said. She was beginning to get uncomfortably creeped out by all the leers and stares they were getting.

"And why would I do that?" Draco asked stubbornly.

Daphne closed her fingers slowly and Draco, with alarm, felt an invisible force begin to crush his balls.

"Hey! Stop! I know a place!" he squeaked.

Daphne smiled sweetly while Hermione frowned, not knowing what had happened.

"Lead the way," Daphne said.

Draco sighed. "Looks like the desert has taught you some tricks," he muttered as he led them out and back up the tunnels to the upper levels.

"And you've certainly fallen from grace," Daphne returned.

Draco shrugged. "I've learnt there are more important things in life."

Hermione and Daphne exchanged a glance. Draco certainly had changed drastically from the bigoted prince he had thought himself to be.

The walked in silence for a few minutes until they came to another converted vault. This time it was a quiet pub serving ale.

"Grab a table," Draco said, gesturing vaguely towards the bunch of wooden chairs and tables strewn haphazardly around, as he walked up to the tiny counter behind which a thin older gentleman was serving jugs and burnt meat.

Daphne shown the one with decent lighting around and gathered a few chairs around a table.

They sat and waited until Draco came back, levitating three mugs and a pitcher of ale.

"Well," he said after pouring the glasses to the frothing brim. "I guess you want to know how Gringotts became Elysium."

"Let's start there," Daphne agreed. She lifted the mug and sniffed at the foam and then with a curious look she took a sip.

"Not bad," she said.

Draco laughed. "After I left Hogwarts, I immediately fell through a distortion and landed up in the middle of a war between the Rebellion and the Goblins. To put it simply, the Goblins had almost won until Tom and Flitwick turned up to save the day. Suffice to say we won and the Rebellion and Tom brokered an agreement between them to create a safe haven for magicals."

Hermione frowned. "That's it?"

"Well, sure, there was a lot of starvation, grovelling, getting beaten up, resigned to death and what not along the way, but I'm still here."

Daphne pondered over his words and wondered where to start. "When you say Tom," she began slowly.

"I mean the dark lord who resigned from his role of being a dark lord." He chuckled. "Turns out he's a pretty decent guy with interesting ideas who has a cool sadistic side to him."

"Given up on blood purity, has he?" Hermione said, her tone stoic.

"Not many of us left to worry about blood anymore. All that matters is magic and how best to use it to survive. The Rebellion, Moody, basically agreed to join forces with Tom provided Gringotts was a place where magicals could live safely and peacefully under a system of simple rules. Anyone who breaks the rules, is kicked out into the wastelands."

"So, they rule from high above in pools of wealth, do they?" Daphne asked. The picture of the magical sky scrapper was seared into her mind.

"Who knows," Draco said with a shrug. "I don't give a fuck."

"The Dark Lord..."

"Tom," Draco corrected. "He's not too fond of being called a dark lord anymore."

"Tom," Daphne said, emphasising on the name with a roll of her eyes, "Even if he pretends to be reformed, can't have forgiven Potter for destroying his world."

Draco chuckled. "If there's anything that unites everyone in this Elysium, it's hate for Harry Potter and the desire to kill him slowly and painfully. It's either that or torture until he lifts the curse.

"Now, I've given out enough free information. The next rounds going to cost you in galleons."

"You must be joking," Daphne scoffed. "Considering the way, you live, a few sickles should make you happy. It's either that or we walk."

Draco scowled. He did need the sickles. He had enough information to bleed them out, so he sat back and gestured at the bartender for another round.

"First you answer one of my questions," he said.

"Was it you? Were you the one to kill my father in the courtroom?"

Daphne went still. The memories were clear in her mind. "Yes," she replied without emotion. "And I was the one who blew up your house as well."

Draco recoiled in shock. For a moment he was filled with rigid rage and then he let it all go with a resigned sigh.

"Didn't know you had it in you," he said. "Did you feel good doing it?"

Daphne leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "It was better than sex."

"I always knew you had a cold heart," he said with a chuckle. "I can see why you fell for Potter."

"Enough," Hermione interjected. They were not here to trade barbs and insults. "Malfoy, we're looking for Harry and we need any information you have about him."

"Why don't you join with Moody and Tom? They're at the head of that campaign."

Daphne dropped a sickle next to his mug. "That's not a route we're keen on taking Draco. That's why we're paying you. Now, is there any news about him."

"You know about Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Of course." Daphne replied.

"Then you know, the only one who got close to him and survived was..."

"Bellatrix Black," Hermione breathed with wide eyes. "She's here?"

Draco whistled and wolfed down some freshly burnt beef.

Daphne dropped another sickle and he still kept quiet until she brought out a galleon.

"Bellatrix has an unusual taste. She likes unnatural places."

"And where is this unnatural place?" Daphne asked.

"The Elysium maybe meant only for magicals but there are those who still see profit in the wastelands. They still have ties and live in defiance of the rule of segregation of magicals from non magicals. Some things don't change I guess."

"So, what?"

"Bellatrix turned up a few weeks ago raving about an encounter with Potter in some place called Avalon. She swore she was going to teach him how to beg. She's got an odd fixation on him, even turned down Tom's invitation to join them," he said with a shudder.

"Where is she?"

"If you want to find her, you're going to have to look in the wastelands. I'd suggest starting at the sleaziest bar you can find."

"Avalon," Hermione muttered. "I've read about it in the book of Merlin. It's a legendary place whose existence has never been proven."

"And if we want to know where he went from there, we'd have to talk to Bellatrix," Daphne summarised.

"Or you could talk to Tom. She told him everything she knows. What I know is what the grapevine knows. And if I were you, I'd stay as far away as possible from the psycho. She's a fucking paedophile."

Daphne had already made up her mind.

"How much to lead the way?" she asked.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 **Review :)**


	58. The Placebo

**The Placebo**

 **The Tower of Elysium, London, Time Unknown**

After Draco turned them down Daphne and Hermione agreed to find a room. This settlement was curious and both of them felt the need to know how one of the most important moments in Magical History turned out. What became of the Rebellion against pureblood supremacy?

The surge of the challenge of understanding the dynamics of this new world made Daphne put her quest to find Harry in the proverbial closet.

Hermione was the voice of camping out in the wastelands, roughing it out, and making inroads into the society of a post apocalypse London; but Daphne shot her down. They weren't going to stay long, and it was worth exploring the comforts of the tower of Elysium.

Daphne's argument swayed Hermione and she had to admit, the magic holding the tower in place in addition to its open layout, was appealing. The higher she went, the more she noticed the subtle upward spiral of the tower with every twist being larger than the one below. The blend of magic and physics blew her mind.

Their room was on the seventeenth floor and the view of a torn down dead city that looked more ethereal than tragic at such heights made her imagine how more floors were there and what perspective would be perceived at those heights.

The corridors were white with natural light streaming through the gaps in the floors. The doors however, were black. It was an odd choice of colours. If fact, it left like a deliberate absence of colour and Daphne felt it held a deeper meaning more in line with the possible mind of a reformed Dark Lord.

"Tell me how are we supposed to enter again?" Daphne asked Hermione.

"The lady in the lobby tapped our palms with her wand." The receptionist had been utterly unhelpful. She had just yawned and drawled out their room number. "There's no mark on the door but I guess we just have to press our hand against it. Like a fingerprint scanner," Hermione explained and then placed her hand in the centre of the door.

"You mean like how goblins used to open vaults," Daphne realised. The tower was goblin magic finally harnessed by wizards, she realised.

The door opened with a whisper of a click.

Daphne took the first step inside and the lights came on with gradual intensity.

Hermione followed, and her eyes widened in surprise. She looked at Daphne, who was fighting a smile.

"Maybe we should rethink how long we want to stay here," Daphne said with mild glee.

"Or maybe this is just how they make us drop our guards," Hermione added suspiciously, grounding Daphne to bitter possibilities.

Daphne headed straight for the couch plush with pillows and jumped in. "Good thing we're smart then," she said with a relaxed sigh.

"I need to get better at transfiguration," she said with a groan and leaned into the pillows.

She was asleep before Hermione could even think of a proper response.

Hermione laughed softly, and her stance mellowed. Daphne was right. Psychologically, they needed this offered comfort.

Her eyes turned to the well-stocked kitchen that looked way more high-tech than the one she remembered from home.

The floor tiles were polished marble and as Hermione walked towards the kitchen, the lighting improved. Digital display units began to light up on the perceived electronics.

Was this really the new magical world? Built upon the foundations of destruction? Could the Desert have broken the pureblood supremacy ideology? Hermione couldn't help but wonder the more she explored the apartment. And the more she thought about it, the more it became clear.

They had to meet the High Council to have their questions answers. But was it worth the risk?

* * *

 _"It is held true, there will come a Wizard who shall rain untold destruction on the world. His coming will herald the rebirth of Gaea who shall only bend to the will of the Chosen one."_

 ** _\- An Elvish Prophecy_**

 **The Research Centre of the Settlement, Time Unknown**

It had been a few days into his stay at the settlement. Much longer than Harry had expected and more interesting than he had given it credit for.

After a refreshing haircut, Oliver had taken him back to the research centre and reintroduced him to Jenna.

Jenna, Harry realised, after a few hours of being with her, had a curiosity meter that was fuelled with logic. She saw the Desert as a hypothetical apocalypse scenario. And in this scenario the survival tool offered was magic. Jenna had used her new-found knowledge of runes to teach herself magic and that power had opened up an entire dimension of possibilities for her. The only way to end the simulation to her was clear. Escape the Desert.

And to do that some kind of reboot was needed with the right parameters at its core. However, she still didn't understand the code powering the desert and Harry was the only one who could help her decipher it.

A few hours with him and she was beyond frustrated with his lack of co-operation and enthusiasm. She had shown him the magic she had learnt. She could rustle a piece of paper now and granted it wasn't impressive, she had at the least expected an impressed reaction, she, being a muggle.

All he was interested in was what the innovations they had developed to survive in the desert. He was particularly fascinated by her newly developed water harvester. It worked like a borewell except it was three-foot-long pipe that was powered by runes and sunlight to bore a metaphysical hole into the Earth to find water and funnel it to the surface. The problem was it didn't work very well and wasn't able to get to the right depths unless a witch was holding it in hand. She had modelled a solar harvester that was used to kick start the runes, but the blanket enchantment over them kept interfering and making the water harvester lose integrity and fall apart.

It was clear to Jenna that part of the enchantment of the Desert was dismantling anything that could make surviving easier. And that was the code she was after, so she kept her mouth shut and entertained his questions with fake politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, wondered if he should tell her he could see her restrained anger in her colours and stonewall her further or should he just help her out with deciphering the his out of control enchantment.

They were in one of the rooms deeper inside the Research facility which Jenna had for herself. It was littered with crushed balls of paper and rows of tables neatly categorised into divisions of science. They were currently in the work in progress subsection of the physics division.

Harry put down the water harvester and pointed to the table in the corner.

"Those are your notes on the enchantment?" he asked, deciding to cooperate at last.

Jenna's expression changed from sour to hopeful. "Take a look," she said and grabbed his hand to pull him towards the study corner. She ignored his irritation and pulled out a chair and gestured at him to sit.

Harry ignored her pushiness. His turned his gaze to the table and his eyes drifted towards his diary that he had been steadily ignoring ever since it was pointed out to him when they had entered the room.

It held so many memories and had been violated by unworthy wizards and witches. Yet it had finally come back to him and he didn't know how to feel about that. The boy who wrote in that was lost an eternity ago.

He sighed and began to sort through the papers presented to him. He didn't feel ready to open it.

A few glances in and he pushed away everything with an annoyed sigh. "The first thing you need to know about runes is that it's not a language with a script," he said crisply. "They are literal manifestations of thought, emotion and material. They are the translations of the communion with the source and if you want to draw the rune, you need to channel the desired manifestation."

Jenna nodded, processing his words with a thoughtful frown. "So, I meditate and draw."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "You need to connect. Here, watch," he said and picked up a pencil.

He focused on vision and drew the rune.

"Vision," Jenna recognised.

"It's manifested structure will remain the same no matter who connects with the source," Harry said.

"Amazing," Jenna whispered.

"The effectiveness of focused magic through runic structures is dependent on the power of the Will they are fed," Harry continued. "So, no what how much you understand and how perfect your solutions, first you need to overcome the will of the runic structures desire to disintegrate."

"It will to disintegrate…" Jenna muttered slowly. "So you're saying my will has an opposing force which is the source… and I need to overcome that by strengthening my will... or say my beliefs?"

"That's an interesting way of looking at it." Harry hummed thoughtfully. "I guess a placebo effect is what you really need."

Jenna laughed.

"So, focus on the depths of my will power and keep drawing it out," she concluded. It wasn't something she hadn't thought of but hearing the words from the creator of the desert filled her with the confidence of knowing it could be achieved. The daunting task of overcoming unlimited power would not put a dampener on her ideas. All she had to do was go step by step. Her mind wandered down her idea of harnessing the power of the solar rays.

"Ok, I'm going to try it," she said with determination. "Er, I guess you can hang around if you want to, just don't go to section X and preferably _don't_ leave. I have _so_ many more questions."

She hurried off to another corner of the large room leaving Harry free to finally focus on his diary.

He finally reached out and took it into his hands. He held it for a moment, feeling the binding and then he ruffled through the papers as a touch of nostalgia hit him. He remembered his single-minded psycho self and couldn't help but grin. He wanted to tell that young boy that the world was more complicated that black and white and that he shouldn't ignore the other metaphorical colours.

Harry leaned back in the chair and put his legs up on the table, his boots making a loud thud as they landed on the wooden top.

He then began to page through his diary, connecting his writings with his past perspectives to measure if they matched with his current state of mind.

The pages automatically turned as his thoughts churned. The Diary was linked to his magic after all.

As he leafed through the pages, he found that everything written was either childish or just formed the basics of what he knew today. He didn't need the Diary anymore, but he couldn't let go of it for it formed the foundations of his childhood.

He laughed as he found the notes he had made about survival and towards the end of the section on the origin of runes he found a subsection on the lost city of Atlantis.

His notes triggered in him a memory of his Ancient Runes class that had once seemed immaterial.

"Runes were first discovered in Atlantis," Professor Babbling had said in the first lesson. "Atlantis: The Lost City." His thoughts got drawn into an interesting pool of ideas.

How did humans discovered how to harness the source in the first place? Was it the humans who found the source or the source that found us? What was the result of the first conscious contact with magic and what rune manifested as a result of it? Could it help him overcome the apocalyptic enchantment?

This was the end game. It had to be. Could it be the final piece that was missing from the puzzle in his mind?

His pulse quickened with excitement and he wondered if Jenna or Hermione had referenced it in their notes. He drew his legs back to the ground and pulled the chair closer into the table to organise their notes and as he read through them, sure enough he found references to its myth and lore.

He had never given myths lot of thought, but his journey into the Badlands had turned everything he believed in upside down and given him a whole new world of perspectives to explore.

With single minded focus, as he scrolled through parchment and notebooks, looking for more references, and with time out of the way, he finally found a crumpled world map in one of the stacked folders labelled 'dump' beside the table and zeroed in on the red circle in the middle of the map around the Sahara. Beside the circle was scribbled _'Richat Structure'_ with a question mark.

He leaned back with a frown and groaned when his spine cracked due to being hunched over.

"The Richat Structure," he murmured. It was a well-known hypnotised location of Atlantis based on Granger's notes but there wasn't any evidence to support the claim. Only theories and speculations existed. Hence the many myths.

To Harry, what drew him further in wasn't the titillation of finding Atlantis. His path was leading him to one of the oldest Desert's in the world and to a location deemed mostly inaccessible due to the terrain and odd electromagnetic activity.

The gatekeepers voice resounded in his memories. Her words before he walked into the den of the black dragon.

 _'It will take you where you need to go.'_

He suddenly stood up with purpose and the chair screeched against the floor and clattered to the ground.

There was no time to waste.

He closed his eyes and reached into the Void, pulling on power and the will to bend space around him.

His destination: The Sahara.

He felt magic bend around him but quite unexpectedly, a force pushed back, and his will was punched back; causing him to lose his hold of the void. The force manifested physically, and he was sent crashing into the tables behind.

Jenna came running when she heard the crash and gasped in alarm. "What the fuck happened!" she shouted furiously. Her models in the water harvesting section were shattered.

Harry was too winded to reply. His head was reeling, and everything was spinning.

The catacomb had stopped him from teleporting.

"Hey?" Jenna asked, calming down as she realised, he probably had a concussion. "Are you okay?"

Harry took deep breaths and nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet and looked a Jenna, a grin forming on his lips.

"What?" she asked. "What happened?"

"I think," Harry said slowly. "I have some plans to make." Harry abruptly turned his back on her and swaggered to find his back to the pantry. He needed water and to be outside.

Jenna frowned but didn't stop him. Instead she turned towards the table that was spilling parchments. He had obviously found something significant.

She decided to put her new-found skill to the test and relaxed her mind, her focus on summoning the notes that made an impact on Harry.

A few seconds later, the papers began to ruffle with purpose.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Wishing everyone an early Happening New Year!**_


	59. Prey or Predator?

**Prey or Predator?**

 **Seventeenth October, Nineteen Ninety-Seven - Chambers of the High Council, Tower of Elysium.**

Tom, Moody, Flitwick were having a solemn conversation about the latest plague to affect the wastelands when a knock on the door disturbed their focused mood.

"Come in," Tom said softly. They were expecting it.

Draco Malfoy swaggered in with a grin on. "So," he said with his trademark drawl. "How are things in Leader town?"

"Draco," Tom acknowledged.

"What do you want Draco," Moody grumbled. "Your note said it was urgent so quit the small talk."

"Ah, don't be a moody sour puss, Moody. Small talk is one of the few joys left in this hell."

"Draco." Tom cut in. "While small talk is appreciated, we are in the middle of a discussion. Your note did say it was urgent. So please, tell us. What is so urgent that it couldn't wait until the weekly congregation?"

Draco pursed his lips and then stuck out his palm with a sly grin.

Moody scowled but Flitwick just shook his head in amusement and summoned a bag of galleons into his palm.

"Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger just walked into the Elysium," he said. "They checked into the rentals last night."

"Greengrass!" Moody said in surprise. "She was there at the trail, wasn't she?"

"She was the one who killed my father," Draco muttered, "But anyway, that immaterial now I guess."

Tom raised his eyebrows.

"And Granger came from Hogwarts through the long way I guess," Draco continued.

"How are they?" Flitwick asked.

"Fit," Draco said with a leer. "Which means they found a way to survive someplace else. They were very curious about how the Rebellion and the Dark Lord united, Bellatrix Black and of course, the stain behind the scenes; Harry Potter. And since that line of thought coincides with your own, I figured it might rouse your own curiosity and loosen your purse strings a little bit more."

Silence reigned while the High Council processed Draco's information.

Draco turned towards the minibar counter near the huge bay window and poured himself a drink. He had a smirk on that just wouldn't quit.

"Did she mention anything about survivors from Hogwarts?" Flitwick asked softly. His heart ached as he recalled his last memory of his home and the people that he loved there.

Draco gulped his drink down and grimaced as his throat burned with pleasure. "Not much he said and poured himself another drink.

"Did you mention The Stream?" Tom asked. He steepled his fingers and sunk into his thoughts about the caravan that Flitwick had shown them and their surprise discovery beneath it.

The stream, Flitwick had said, had been dead for centuries. It was just an endless tunnel fogged with Goblin Lore. The only physical remnant of the myth of the tunnel being a source of power was the regeneration chamber. Even Flitwick, the rejected half breed, had managed to get his blood infused in the chamber by his father. It was never successfully used and served as more of a ceremonial gesture; welcoming a new born into the world underground.

And, yet, Flitwick had managed it. Tom felt it had something to do with the reactivation of the stream rather that Flitwick's own strength and skill.

"No," Draco replied. "I don't want anything to do with that freakshow."

"You call this useful information, Draco?" Moody said with a scowl.

Draco sneered.

"I just figured you'd want to recruit. I sure you need new perspectives if you want to crack the puzzle."

"Thank you, Draco," Tom cut in. "Was there anything else?"

Draco just stuck out his palm and waited.

Moody growled but Tom just summoned another smaller pouch and levitated it into Draco palm.

"Much obliged," he said with a mock bow. "Let me know if you want me to bring them," he said and sauntered out of their chamber.

Tom turned to Flitwick as soon as Draco left. "It's your call," he said. "They don't mean much to Moody and I, but they were your students."

Flitwick pondered over it for a moment.

"I'll go talk to them," he said with a note of finality.

Tom nodded.

"Now can we get back to the real problem at hand?" Moody grumbled. "The bloody vampires are beginning to get noticed by the folks in the wastelands."

It was open season on anything with a pulse after the destruction of the Ministry of Magic. The High Council and the Elysium was all that stood in the way of another war. A war in which their species stood on a severe disadvantage.

Trapped in a confined space with predators would never benefit the prey.

Tom grinned. Diplomatic conflict was his favourite playground. And it was gently brewing on the horizon.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Happy New Year people!**_


	60. Prey and Predator

**Prey and Predator**

When he saw the face of the newcomer everyone was talking about, he recognised the monster and painful daggers of vengeful emotions struck deep in his heart.

It was him. The demon who had torn his life apart.

The boy was always quiet. He was an orphan who had spent some rough years in the system. Adoptive families kept returning him like a disappointing commodity within the first few weeks.

Then the apocalypse came, and he was thrilled to be the only survivor in the orphanage until the food ran out, and then, he was forced to confront his worst nightmares as a harsh reality about his past and future became an agonizing truth of his existence.

Until his path lead to the settlement.

There he had managed to hold on to the fringe end of the camp, the border between the ones who lived and the ones who died. Here, he learnt of the monster who brought the apocalypse and his hate deepened.

The same monster had killed his parents.

The teenager watched his path and unconsciously his fingers curled around the knife sheathed on his belt.

-x-

It was night fall when Harry left the Research Centre. He headed down to the beach and walked the path of ripples in the sand in search of a remote spot where he could feel undisturbed.

He remained alert for distortions but felt none as his stroll neared the hour. It was a little while later he spotted a faint image of what looked like a rocky cliff hanging over a rough part of the ocean.

Perfect, he thought and teleported to the edge.

He could still teleport within the desert. Just not out of it.

He sat down cross-legged and with the salted wind whipping through his hair he looked up at the bright night sky.

The catacomb enchantment was rooted in the manifested runes of confusion, space and travel. But he was not confused and the image of his destination of clear in his mind. And yet he was prevented from travelling. Was there a rune he was missing? A catacomb always had a way out.

He reached for the void and looked deeper into the sky. Was he missing something or was it staring right at him in the face and he was unable to perceive it?

Harry leaned back and lay on his back. There were billions of streaks of light hurtling through the sky, over endless horizons. There was no colour that dominated and no rune that stood out. Everything was interlinked on a level that was far beyond his capabilities.

This was the curse he had conjured from the depths of a cruel void. It was a place he could not go back to. He was no longer that person.

What he was now he was yet to understand. And the only way to understand was to keep moving forward.

The wall that now stood in his way was his own a part of his curse, fuelled with an infinite power of an unending universe.

Could he undo just a little bit of it to travel to the Eye of the Sahara? He was sure of finding answers to the most historical question of all. How did it begin? If he knew how it began, he'd know how it had to end.

His journey had taken him further than he could have ever imagined and now it demanded him to find the first magical singularity.

Harry closed his eyes and let his subconscious mind take over. Atlantis. His knowledge of the myth was brought to the surface and he drifted to sleep.

What would it take to reach there?

And the end of all the thoughts and ideas there was only one truth. He needed more Power.

He was still powerless in the face of beings from different parts of the universe.

And the source was a power that fuelled the consciousness of a multiverse.

In his dreams, he began to imagine meeting other beings that were his equal and becoming part of a survival game on a much grander landscape.

The smile on his face stayed for the duration of his short nap.

-x-

When Harry awoke the sky was cloudy and his surroundings pitch black.

He teleported back to the edge of the camp and was welcomed with the warmth of hundreds of camp fires by the beach.

It looked like there was some celebration of sorts.

Harry decided to steer clear and headed back to the Research Centre. If he needed more power, he needed to return to the experiment in the Enchanted Forest.

But before he left, he wanted more information about Atlantis. He could not enter the desert engine unprepared. The last time he went through, he had reached Avalon and almost died in the Badlands.

It was his desire to find the source that led him there. Now he desired to go back to the beginning to bring about an end.

He instinct told him it was probably not a good idea to enter the engine with a paradoxical mind set.

Harry ignored the watchful eyes as he passed through the settlement towards the Research Centre.

And in his preoccupied state of mind, he didn't notice the malevolent eyes latching onto his movement.

-x-

The teenager was sitting a distance away from the celebrations with dark thoughts clouding his emotions.

He was thinking of a plan when he spied the monster appear near the edge of the camp.

He didn't think twice and didn't care if he failed.

The knife was pulled from its sheath and he began to sneak up on his prey.

-x-

Harry felt a sharp itch on the back of his neck and his instincts kicked in with a explosion of adrenaline.

He jerked his neck right and felt a piercing pain skim his shoulder blade.

The Void moved with purpose and pinned the body down with unrestrained fury.

The attacker had barely realised he had failed when he felt himself fall on his back and the force of an elephant's foot began to crush him into the desert.

His scream was unable to leave his lungs under the intense pressure.

His eyes began to bulge under the suffocating magic.

-x-

Harry looked for an identity in his attackers face and astonishment shook him to his core making him release the binding magic.

The boy had lost an immense amount of weight since Harry had last seen him.

The connection to his past reared the rage in his void and the astonishment turned in a malevolent smile that made Dudley Dursley feel a terrible creep of terror from deep within his heart.

Yet his own rage was strong enough to scramble to his feet in an effort to stab Harry again.

The Void wrapped around him like a cocoon and Dudley felt his body rise into the air, unable to move.

The rage remained in his eyes even when Harry brought him close and began to chuckle.

"You know," Harry hissed softly. "I never imagined I would run into you. But now that I see you…" Harry's smile stretched from ear to ear. "I remember how disappointed I was that you weren't that night."

Dudley was trying to say something. It was evident with the look in his eyes.

Harry allowed him to speak and Dudley immediately spat in his face.

Harry snapped.

The Void began to tighten around Dudley.

When he began to scream, all Harry saw was a Dudley Dursley being crushed to a pulp.

Silence reigned with a series of snaps and squelch.

Harry felt warm blood splattered over his face and he released the crushed and mangled remains of his cousin.

The adrenaline began to leave his system and his rage that had learned how to calm down over time took him back to rational state of mind that was confronted with a delicate situation.

He turned around to face the terrified eyes behind him.

-x-

Harry saw Sirius and Jenna in the crowd. Sirius was emotionless and Jenna had her mouth covered to stop her urge to scream.

A ripple of regret shimmered in the Void and Harry wondered why.

"Son, I think it's time you left."

It was the Doc who summoned the courage to speak.

Harry took a deep breath. When it was time to move on, it was time to move forward.

"Thanks for saving my life Doc," he said. The cloud of confusion over navigating through the desert evaporated and his next destination materialised clearly in the Void. Harry closed his eyes and reached out with the Void for the invisible curtain of the catacomb to displace him from one space to another.

A bone chilling draft seared his skin and Harry adjusted to the change from a mud huts to the ruins of devastated skyscrapers.

Harry grinned and began to slowly walk through the skulking humans crowding the streets, lighting fires below large pieces of concrete debris.

Hogwarts had been his preferred destination, but he felt like there was something important to find in the ruins of London. With his discovery of life in the Settlement and its evolution, he was curious to know what had become of the magical and non-magical. What was the true nature of London?

Nothing spoke more clearly than emotions under the threat of imminent death.

Harry had already put Dudley's murder behind him, the fleeting emotions of rediscovering himself after escaping the jaws of death began to dissolve and he felt the predator in his growl in hunger.

As it turned out, all that he needed to get out of his funk and remember who he was, was a satisfying kill.

He conjured a hood to hide the smile he couldn't keep away from his lips and pulled it over his head as began to look out for signs of magic.

If there was anything he would keep from the experience of the Settlement, it was the wisdom to keep his face hidden when around people. Atlantis as a final destination. And to let the predator out to play once in a while to clear his head.

-x-

 **Review :)**


	61. The Way Forward

**The Way Forward**

 _'You have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and you've been brought up in hate and pain. You're not rash like Gryffindor and neither are you manipulative like Slytherin. You're ruled by emotions and you need to learn about emotions if you are to choose a path. The question is; are you capable of undoing the damage done to your mind or will you continue to wallow in hate and become a true monster.'_

 _\- The Sorting Hat to Harry Potter_

 _"Atlantis."_

The name and the lore around the continent swirled in Harry's mind and the outside world melted away.

He had quietly taken up a far corner around one of the fires, wanting to rest after the thrilling encounter with his past.

People huddled around the fire exchanging humour and gnawing on the bones of what Harry knew was once lizard.

A silent cleansing and warming charm got him comfortable and he stared into the fire and let his mind drift.

The Void, the Engine, Avalon, the Badlands, Hogwarts, the Source, Atlantis, the Dragon, the Desert. It was all connected and the stream took Harry back to the singularity where it all hypothetically began and the inevitable question that arose.

The greatest magical mystery of all.

How had the Ancients of Atlantis managed to sink an entire continent? Had it been a dystopian or utopian haven?

Oh, the sweet taste of mystery quickened Harry's pulse and drew an unshakable grin on him.

All the lore pointed to the Sahara Desert. To get there he needed a way around his own spell.

A spell which had taken its own consciousness and created a web that was still beyond his understanding.

He thought about entering the Engine in the Enchanted Forest but ruled that out almost immediately. The Forest was mystical. He never realised it before but now, in hind sight, there had always been an underlaying force, talking to him, nudging his mind when he was in there.

He was not keen on going down an unstable path.

He had instinctively thought of London after crushing Dudley. He wondered what could be left here that could lead him to Atlantis.

A cold draught broke through his spell and Harry huddled into his robes; hood drawn. Sleep was beginning to overcome him and at the forefront, his mind began to wonder.

Could he use the secret of Atlantis to bring about a conclusion to the curse?

What would the collateral look like?

* * *

 _ **Time Unknown, The Desert**_

Consciousness returned to Albus Dumbledore sluggishly. His senses were scattered. The last thing he remembered was letting go.

"Why am I alive?" he mumbled.

His eyes began to flutter and sensed the mild light of the moon.

His senses began to clear and he realised he was laying in the shade of a makeshift tent and head rested on an uncomfortable bag pack.

A South European woman swam through his vision. She wearing a black dress and had a large hat that shaded her tanned skin and dark hair.

His eyes drifted towards the rifle slung over her back and down to the shotgun she had causally over her lap.

"How are you feeling?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, took a deep breath and used occlumency to clear his mind and organise his thoughts.

He had not let loose in a long time. All that suppressed power released. His mind felt good. Better than it had felt in decades.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "Alive," he said.

The woman grinned. She was sitting crossed legged on the ground and smoothly turned the muzzle of the shotgun towards his face.

"And is there are reason I should keep you alive?"

Dumbledore blinked and processed her words. Clearly she adept at killing and was in this for survival. She probably viewed everyone as a potential threat.

"Maybe because I'm not a threat to you?" Dumbledore replied with a dry smile.

She laughed and suddenly her composure relaxed and Dumbledore felt a tension he wasn't aware was present release it's hold on him. "I'm just surprised you're still alive."

Dumbledore felt strength return to his body and he curled his fingers and toes and sighed. The woman had some interesting powers. Was she aware of them? He wondered.

"My name's Freya, what's yours?"

Dumbledore pushed his torso up and looked at Freya more clearly.

"Albus," he replied.

* * *

 _ **Thirteenth November, Nineteen Ninety-Seven, Tower of Elysium**_

It had been weeks and multiple trips to the bar but there was no glimpse of Bellatrix every time.

Hermione was fed up with Draco's insistence that she would turn up and was seriously considering taking up Moody offer.

Daphne, however was staunchly against it.

Their funds were low and would allow them only a few days of the luxurious apartment which had now led to the time to make a decision.

"I say we move on."

"Move on to where?" Hermione asked. "This place has the most to offer and we could find a way to lift the curse if we take up Flitwick's offer."

The two woman were sitting on armchairs in the balcony of the apartment restfully sipping on tea as they watched the sun set on the ruins of London from high above.

"That won't lead us to Harry," Daphne replied firmly.

"Maybe it's time you gave up on that. We've been here a while and both you and I know that what's happening here is great. A bit immoral but probably the best thing we have for rebuilding our civilisation. If we join the High Council maybe we can contribute to the revival of our lives!"

"Given up on the muggles eh?" Daphne returned dryly.

Hermione laughed. "It's survival of the fittest Daphne. Haven't we come to terms with that?"

Hermione was right. Daphne knew it. But the idea of being part of something that called themselves the High Council just repulsed her. And not to mention she cared nothing for the rebuilding of civilisation.

"You go ahead if you must," Daphne said. "I'm going to find us a job so that we can keep this sweet place until Black turns up."

"I think if we joined the council we'd get something even better."

"So how about you join and I'll keep my ear to the ground. There's so reason for us to stick to each other."

Hermione sipped her tea and mulled the idea over.

"Looks like we found our way forward," she said with a grin. She raised her cup and looked at Daphne solemnly. "To Luxury."

Daphne laughed and raised her cup as well. "To getting what we want."

Hermione and Daphne had evolved. They no longer worried. They no longer feared death. They had gained the instincts to survive the desert and didn't have to depend on others.

They were free to chose their own paths and Daphne felt like she was the only one who felt they owed it to Harry.

And it was that thought that secretly tortured her. And it was the reason she still wouldn't give up on finding Harry. She didn't know how she'd react when she did and was curious to know how it would turn out.

She was free to chose her path after all.

* * *

Review :)


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